The Grim Wanderer (57 page)

That night saw the company to the edge of the eastern mountains. By the following day, they were walking through the woodland of the Lost Realms. There was no trail anymore, so the Hand of Fire followed the stars, the sun and the compass. Drual proved to be an indispensable aid, always chipping in useful comments from what he had experienced on his previous journeys to the City of Night. Taem reflected on how, perhaps, Hirandar’s faith in the rogue would be proved right after all.

Always, the company moved carefully in these wild lands, and continued to post sentries throughout the nights. But the Nargs seemed long gone. The Hand of Fire followed the path of a river as it crossed the grassy plains. Ever cautious, ever watchful. These were Krun lands, and all the companions knew they were in incredible danger. The tribes of Ugurs and Kruns would be furious if they found trespassers in their territory. One region they crossed was littered with giant boulders and, that night, they camped in the relative safety of a cave. Lucky for them they found a roof that evening, as it rained all night and straight through until morning. The company passed ancient ruins; so old that the forest had grown around and inside the old towers and walls. Often, the Hand of Fire saw signs of Kruns, but always Logan led them away from the direction of the tracks.

Since the company had left the mountain trail, they had not seen a single sign of Isornel and his Dark company. Unlike in the mountains, however, there was no set route to follow to the Nakramilis, and Isornel’s company must have passed a different way.

The warriors of the Hand of Fire talked as they walked, and conversed around their nightly campfires, but never any louder than a murmur. Drual’s irritation at Balthus had not resurfaced, and the group were forged into a closely-knit company.

One afternoon, as the companions travelled through a forest, a lone Krun hunter crossed their path, and Baek put an arrow through him from fifty yards.

‘I was fortunate the wind was with me,’ the Aborle said modestly, as the others complemented him on his incredible bowmanship.

The Krun hunter never knew what, or who, had hit him. The company hid the body in some deep undergrowth, and hoped the corpse would not be found by his fellow Kruns for a long time, if ever.

On the eighth day since the mountains it was sunny and cloudless, yet Taem shivered as a strange wind whistled through the trees of the forest. Others would have thought nothing of that wind. But Taem was Sodan, and he sensed foreboding on the air.

The company emerged from woodland to see – two miles away to the north, across open ground – the Nakramilis. Finally, their destination was close. But Taem was on edge. He felt the lifelessness of this place. For miles around the Nakramilis, the earth was dead. Nothing lived or stirred. There was no grass or trees, no birdsong or rabbits. It was deadly silent, bar from the hissing breeze, as the Hand of Fire crossed the ashen desert.

A massive sandstone wall, thirty yards high, extended in a perfect square box around the City of Night. Taem gasped, in awe and dread. In the exact centre of the huge city, a colossal sandstone pyramid rose up, towering over the city walls. He saw Drual, Jvarna and Forgrun cower away from the shadow of that monstrosity. That pyramid exuded menace. It was the biggest structure Taem had ever seen – one hundred yards high, at the very least. It dwarfed the Rock of Dolam and the trees of Borleon Forest, dominating the landscape for miles around. There was something unnerving about that grand pyramid – all the warriors knew that. It was a great monument, with a dark side that held the promise of terrible power, hidden within its smooth surfaces.

‘Decu be shieldin’ us,’ Forgrun muttered.

Taem saw how the masons of long-ago had placed great emphasis on geometric precision. Everything in the desolate city was centred in relation to everything else. Even the city streets and buildings were laid out in a precise grid, of perpendicular angles and parallel lines, all centred on the pyramid. The wary company crept up to the enormous black doorways, thrown open in the middle of the sandstone city walls, inviting anyone who dared to enter. Despite the wind, Taem smelt the air was old and stale, like a cave. Or a room that had spent the whole summer with its windows barred shut. He could hear nothing. No birds calling, no animals foraging, no trees swaying in the wind, nothing.

‘What does the Key-Piece look like?’ Jvarna broke the hushed silence, as she watched the city gates. ‘Remind us again.’

‘We are searching for a triangular pyramid,’ Hirandar murmured, ‘small enough to fit into the palm of your hand, and the colour of the blackest obsidian. It is inset with precious stones, and its edges laced in flowing gold metalwork. It’s made of Gentian. Which, at first glance or touch, may seem like kiln-fired clay, but this material is unbreakable.’

‘Weapons out,’ Logan commanded, as the Hand of Fire stood on the edge of this city of ruins.

The rustle of metal blades on leather whispered across the silence. Taem watched the ominous ruins beyond the forbidding gates.

Logan stared into the city, ‘We’ll hide our packs inside the gates. Stay together. If we get separated, meet back at the packs at sunset,
no later
.’

With that, Logan crossed the threshold into the dead city, blade in hand and senses on a knife-edge. The rest of the company followed, emboldened by their dauntless leader. The place was quieter than a tomb. No sign of life. Taem shivered as he felt the pervading death. Not even vermin lived amongst the city ruins. Nothing moved but the companions. Their footsteps barely registering in the overwhelming silence.

In the darkness deep below the city, a lingering evil – as old as the stone itself – roused as the living once again encroached on forbidden ground. The cursed dead were awoken, and they were ravenous. Ages had passed, but still they endured. Not in life, but a woeful half-death where the evil hunger, and hatred for the living, was all they knew. These things drove the undead mad in their otherwise empty minds. They were filled with an insatiable need to devour warm flesh, and kill any that walked in their City of Night.

The sun felt warm on the back of Taem’s neck, as it climbed overhead, baking the lifeless soil in which nothing grew. The company crept on through the desolate streets. The city was deserted. Taem’s gaze darted around the ruins. He perked up his ears, straining to hear anything untoward. All was silent bar the shrill whistle of the wind, as it cut between the old sandstone ruins. He shivered at the doom and death that hung heavy over this ruined city. But Taem found some comfort in the reassuring weight of Estellarum in his hands, the feel of the soft leather hilt, the way sunlight glinted along the blade. Whatever endured in this dark city, he knew the Starblade had the power to destroy it.

The adventurers searched into the dark buildings and shadows of this wasteland, advancing to the pyramid at the city’s centre. They knew the sunlight should keep whatever skulked in the cursed city back, but all made sure to be vigilant. Forgrun shot Taem a dubious glance. The Rhungar felt uneasy in this place, but Taem knew Forgrun was brave. Taem was glad the bold Rhungar was by his side. Taem noticed Drual was ice cool, as he walked at the front beside Logan. How had the rogue become so composed? Taem presumed it was because Drual had been here before, but he was startled to see the rogue so… focused. It was as if his true self had been hidden by a mask, and only now was he revealing himself.

This City of Night was haunted by worse than spirits, and the eerie presence felt as if it were lingering just behind Taem all the time. He felt a chill shadow fall over his heart. Often he turned, expecting something fearsome to be right on his shoulders, but there was never anything there. There was only emptiness, and that made Taem shiver as well. Evil permeated this city. It was so oppressive it seemed it might suffocate him. Make him forget to breathe. The air itself was dead. Taem looked around at his companions, and he knew this dark place was making his friends as apprehensive as he. Baek and Jvarna seemed jittery as they swept their weapons from side to side, whilst Hirandar, Ragad and Logan surveyed the encircling ruins, calm yet aware. The Wizard had an intent look on her face, and Taem was sure she must have been preparing magic spells to unleash.

Taem knew his companions were all courageous warriors though, capable of overcoming their fear. He saw they all had a determined gleam in their eyes, and none more so than Balthus. Balthus was keener than all of them to find the Vokra first. Since Balthus had joined the Hand of Fire, there was one thing that drove the Lord of Dolam on, revenge.

Taem heard no voices penetrate the quiet, only the softest steps on the barren soil, as the companions crossed the silent city, heading towards the monstrous tomb. That pyramid was a malevolent entity, rearing up over the city, dwarfing all the other forsaken shells of buildings hundreds of times over. Taem shuddered as he realised that, somehow, the titanic Nakramilis had escaped the ravages of time, unlike everything else in the ancient city. The huge pyramid was unadorned in any way, except for the single imposing doorway that led inside, into the darkness. Although lying at an angle, its four exterior sloping walls were as smooth as sheets of glass. The massive sandstone blocks used to construct the pyramid were all cut at the angle of the slope. It was a feat that would have taken the lives of thousands of slaves, in those ancient times.

‘This place be evil,’ Forgrun whispered to Taem, as the Rhungar held his great axe close to his body.

‘A cloud of darkness lingers over that,’ Baek looked up at the pyramid, and Taem saw the dread in the Aborle’s eyes.

‘Stay close together,’ Taem nodded to both of his friends, ‘do what Logan and Hirandar tell us, and all will be well.’

The Hand of Fire crept to the pyramid’s base, and Ragad lit all the lanterns and torches they had brought with them. Taem caught Ragad’s stony gaze as the Croma passed him a torch, and the Sodan saw a rare emotion there. There was no fear in Ragad, only eagerness. Perhaps the Northman would find what he was searching for within the sinister pyramid?

The Hand of Fire climbed a long flight of steps up to the entrance, and passed into the darkness inside the Nakramilis. As the company crossed the threshold, and left the rays of the sun, Taem shivered as he felt the temperature plummet. Why did Taem fear that was the last time he would ever feel the sun?
I am Sodan,
Taem thought to himself.
The Light will shine on my blade.

Taem caught the look in Jvarna’s eyes, and saw the Shacainian was terrified. Taem reached out with his Sodan senses, and his heart missed a beat. He sensed a great well of evil souls beneath the pyramid. His hands began to shake.

‘Taem,’ Forgrun murmured, ‘what do be ye matter?’

‘We are not alone in this place,’ Taem whispered.

‘Nay problem,’ Forgrun grinned, as he patted Taem on the shoulder with one of his massive hands. ‘We’ll ‘ave ‘em! It do take an army ter stop ye mighty Hand o’ Fire.’

Taem smiled weakly, before following behind the Rhungar.

The soft glow of the company’s lanterns flickered over stone, which had not felt the touch of light in many seasons. The company slunk down a long passage – bare, square-cut and empty. The only sound that Taem could hear was the soft muffled footsteps the warriors took. He saw how all the warriors grasped their weapons tight, finding solace in the reassurance of steel.

They headed deeper into the lifeless place. Making for the pyramid’s centre, the company came up to a monumental chamber – which was dark and void of anything, but its sandstone walls. The wary adventurers glanced at the looming shadows, expecting something horrific to come out of the dark. They were tiny figures in the vastness of this giant antechamber. It once might have been a grand throne room, but with the passing of ages everything had been looted, or long ago crumbled to dust.

Taem could just perceive, submerged in the black, a wide flight of steps far in front of them, leading down into the darkness below. There were passages to the sides of the stairs, which ran off the main room, and on into lightless places. With every further step the companions took, Taem felt the malevolent presence grow larger and more overbearing. It set him on edge, poised to react. His muscles wanted to burst into action. Alongside him, Baek’s gaze skittered over the darkness, and the Aborle was quaking. Ragad, on the other hand, seemed unbothered as he watched the company’s back trail. And Logan, of course, showed no fear, as he held his blade in the guarding ready stance. Hirandar was gazing around in amazement, trying to take in every detail of the ancient tomb.

‘There are many levels above and below ground,’ Drual whispered.

Taem understood why the rogue did not raise his voice, the quiet of the pyramid was so absolute that no one wanted to break it.

‘Any treasure will be deep down there,’ Drual pointed down the wide flight of steps.

‘Everyone stay close and be watchful,’ Logan walked to the steps.

Taem found there was such certainty in Logan’s voice, it made him feel calmer.

‘Should we split up,’ Balthus pointed his longsword towards the shadows, ‘so we can find the Key-Piece quicker?’

‘No,’ Logan said softly. ‘If we’re going to get lost, let us all get lost together.’

‘At least then we won’t be lost from each other,’ Baek stared into the shadows.

Taem saw the relief on Forgrun’s, Jvarna’s, and even Hirandar’s faces that the company would be remaining in one big group.

The Hand of Fire descended the once-grand stairway into a large chamber, where their lantern light revealed three high, squared doorways leading off in different directions. Taem saw how each doorway towered twenty foot tall, and was ten foot wide.

‘It’s this way,’ Drual pointed to the left hand door.

‘No it’s not,’ Balthus snapped. ‘It’s this door,’ he gestured to the centre door.

‘How would you know?’ Drual raised his voice, glaring at the Lord of Dolam.

‘I think I’m more trustworthy than a thief,’ Balthus sneered.

‘Begging your pardon,
your majesty
,’ Drual took a pompous bow. ‘But I think it’s
you
who’s untrustworthy!’

Balthus tensed up in outrage.

‘
Silence
!’ Logan growled. ‘You’re making enough noise to wake the dead! Let alone bring the undead down on us! I don’t know what the problem is between you two, but it ends now,’ Logan glowered at them both. ‘We take the left doorway. Drual was taken as a guide, so we’ll follow his route.’

Drual showed Balthus a mocking smile, and winked. The Lord of Dolam went red with wrath – his eyes bulged, about to pop out of his head, his jaw muscles contorting. Balthus was so furious that Taem thought he was going to run the rogue through.

‘Drual, lead on,’ Logan said strongly. ‘Baek, go forward with him, then Forgrun, Ragad and Jvarna;
then Balthus
. Taem, watch the rear.’

As the other companions moved off down the empty passage, Logan nodded to his apprentice with a look that said
be careful
.

Taem was bewildered by the intensity of Balthus and Drual’s dislike for each other. Even Ragad was riled up, and the Croma never seemed bothered by anything.

‘What do you think, old friend?’ Logan asked Hirandar, as they moved after the other warriors down the tunnel.

‘The pyramid is a maze,’ Hirandar whispered, ‘haunted by the spirits of the restless dead. But if we do not rouse them, we may pass through undisturbed.’

Taem followed his guardians, and the torches of the rest of the company up ahead. Being the last man he kept his eyes fixed on their back trail, and his ears strained for anything that could be following them. Taem sensed the oppressiveness become thicker as the company went deeper, and the air became ever more stale and stifling. It was close to suffocating him. Nothing moved except the companions, and the pyramid’s utter silence made the darkness more intense. He shuddered when he sensed all the lost souls beneath this tomb beginning to stir.

‘Master,’ Taem said anxiously.

‘Yes, Taem,’ Logan whispered, ‘I sense them too. We Sodan feel the darkness of this place. But we must find the Key-Piece. We must go on.’

At the head of the company, Drual went forward with a casual swagger, his crossbow resting on his shoulder, burning torch in the other hand, confident now he was leading. Baek was edging along by Drual’s side with a different attitude. The Aborle’s every step was careful. His bow was ready, with an arrow notched, and his gaze scoured the shadows ahead.

‘
Stop
!’ Forgrun hollered out, from behind the front two, flailing a hand in the direction of Drual’s foot. But it was too late.

There was a click. A rasping echoed through the darkness. All the warriors scanned around, terrified. The careless rogue had stepped on an obvious panel in the dusty stone floor, and it dropped into a depression under Drual’s weight. Taem heard the sound of ancient rollers grinding away. All the companions looked around the passage, in panic, knowing that a trap had been activated. Glancing back, Forgrun saw a stone slab lowering from the ceiling above Balthus’s head.

‘Be lookin’ out!’ Forgrun yelled at the Lord of Dolam.

Balthus stared up in surprise to see the huge stone door, moments from falling on his head and crushing him. Logan shoved Balthus from behind, hurling the Lord of Dolam clear of danger. The stone slab slammed into the ground, separating Logan, Hirandar and Taem from the rest of the company.

‘What happened?’ Balthus asked, eyes wide with fear.

‘There do be pressure switch on ye floor,’ Forgrun pointed underneath Drual’s foot.

‘I might’ve guessed
you
had something to do with it,’ Balthus glowered at Drual. ‘Maybe you led us this way on purpose–’

‘What do you mean?’ Jvarna snapped.

Ragad and Forgrun strained against the stone door, with all their mighty strength, but it was immovable. Forgrun tried tapping on it, but heard nothing back from his friends on the other side.

‘I mean,’ Balthus said darkly, ‘what if
he
deliberately led us into this trap.’ Balthus stared at Drual.

Everyone glanced round uneasy at this. Each warrior now suspicious of the others. There was a horrible realisation amongst them, that they did not know each other at all well. Forgrun, all of a sudden, felt Baek was the only one there he really trusted.

Drual said nothing to defend himself. He just snorted and glared at Balthus. Maybe he thought the allegation so absurd it did not warrant a justification. Maybe, some of the adventurers pondered, Balthus could be right.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Jvarna said furiously.

‘It was an unlucky step that any of us could’ve taken,’ Baek held up his hands, in a calming gesture towards the Lord of Dolam.

‘
Really
?’ Balthus said sarcastically, ‘I didn’t see you prancing around carelessly, my Aborle friend.’

Ragad and Forgrun shot wary glances at Drual. The rogue had been careless; they had all seen it.

‘Let’s just move on,’ Jvarna said. ‘The passage is sealed. We can’t go back, we must go forward. We’ll locate the Key-Piece, find a different way out, and meet the other three back on the surface.’