~
The following day we were shown to a large dining hall for breakfast. I was amused to behold Łĩnwéé sitting at a table with the same old cronies he had been feasting and drinking with the previous evening including his friend Fééwiél. But this morning saw a very different person. His hair and beard were washed and shone in the lamp light; I had to admit he looked very smart. He wore a dark red suit of velvet with a lace shirt beneath that was open at the neckline; even his skin seemed to gleam healthily it was scrubbed so clean. He caught my eye and frowning as if he read my thoughts said, “it’s nat just ye T’Iea tha’ can look their best ye know from time t’ time.”
I smiled and whilst bowing towards him and his friends said, “no, I’m sure not, but to see a Grûndén, the same Grûndén, dressed bright and shining twice in one’s lifetime, well that is truly a sight to behold.”
His companions burst into laughter. After nodding toward me with a beaming smile that lit up his whole face, he returned to chatting with his pals. I decided to go sit at a different table not wishing to intrude upon their conversation.
Eventually Jondris appeared, walking very slowly and holding his head, I stood in concern for he was obviously not feeling his best. I grasped his arm and steered him towards the table where I had been sitting. He groaned. As he sat down he said, “darkness take that dwarven ale.”
Then it dawned on me poor Jon was sporting a massive hangover.
“Umm but what do you mean?” I asked feigning ignorance. Looking at me with his somewhat bloodshot eyes Jon said, “I stayed down with Łĩnwéé and his friends for a while and each brought me a drink, I felt it rude to refuse so I drank all of it, it seemed to become easier the more I drank. I forget how many tankards of ale I had last night before I could make an excuse and get myself to bed. Or maybe I was taken to bed …… I can’t remember.”
“Oh dear,” was all I could think to say. But I smirked at the amusing thought of Jon drinking and laughing down here with the company of Łĩnwéé and his pals.
I shook my head sorrowfully. “Oh Jon. Sword wounds and effects of poison; arcane curses and dented skulls; most afflictions made upon you I can either cure or ease the pain and aid the recovery, but alas self-inflicted wounds of over indulgence.” I shrugged and continued to shake my head slowly as Jon gave out another mournful groan.
All of a sudden a cheer went up from the table where the Łĩnwéé sat and Jon clutched at his head groaning loudly. All of Łĩnwéé’s friends took it upon themselves to shout a greeting at Jon followed by a hearty laugh or a rousing cheer. I giggled to myself.
We all enjoyed the hospitality and grand breakfast from Dĩmmĩ’s house that morning, well most of us. I don’t think Jon ate anything and spent the whole time sitting with his head in his hands groaning at the slightest raised voice or cheery laugh. Serinae offered Jon a large mug of tea to drink saying that it would lift his spirits and dull the throb in his brain. It seemed to work for after drinking the tea Jon did brighten up somewhat. But all he kept saying was, “never, never again,” over and over much to the amusement of the Grûndén contingent.
Following the morning meal and after we had the chance to settle ourselves, there came a hammering at the front entrance. Dĩmmĩ opened the door; she spoke for a few minutes with whoever was outside. Eventually she stepped back into the hall and in strode two soldiers, both heavily armoured in highly polished plate with helms on their heads, shields and battle axes strapped across their backs. This time the armour they wore was very similar to Łĩnwéé’s in quality and design. They stood before us and bowed low. We all stood and bowed back. The soldiers asked our leave and apologised for the interruption. But they announced themselves as members of the royal guard and explained that the Grâumin had requested an audience with us as soon as we were ready. They were to escort us to the Grâumin’s palace.
So after sprucing ourselves up we arrived downstairs in Dĩmmĩ’s lobby. When we were all gathered we stepped outside and walked down the road on which Dĩmmĩ’s guest house was located following close behind the two royal guards. Łĩnwéé walked by their sides, by this time he was back wearing all his armour and gear. Looking very alike, the three of them chatted like old comrades in arms. Serinae was adorned in her chain armour, her swords and bow about her person in their usual places. But this time I stood aghast as she also wore a light helm upon her head. It was beautifully made, obviously Grûndén in origin, close fitting to her skull with a chain mail net at the rear which hung down over the back and sides of her neck. Her hair now tied in a single thick braid, hung down beneath this net and ran down her back to her waist as usual. I found out from chatting to Seri that the helm she wore was awarded to her by the Grûndén lords; she didn’t normally wear it and kept it in her rooms here in Gwéldølĩn. But on this occasion she thought it proper to dust it off and wear it as a mark of respect to our Grûndén hosts. I mused on what a healer should ware as a badge of office. T’Iea rangers and Grûndén guardians wore what you would expect them to wear. Even the monks in their finely worked leather harness and armour. A uniform that marked them for what they were. It displayed their skill and success to all who would look upon them. But what would a druid healer wear? All the healers I had known just wore anything they had to hand, there did not seem to be a common uniform or even a badge marking them as a distinctive group.
We travelled for about an hour or so through the streets and avenues of Gwéldølĩn slowly rising up through the tiers of the city towards the highest pinnacle. We crossed many bridges and walked down tree-lined avenues. Strode through large squares bustling with colourful market stalls and others that were empty apart from gatherings of people chatting and laughing. We made our way through narrow streets on which many inviting shops stood, selling all kinds of goods. I stood amazed outside a jewellery shop, not believing the array of finely worked precious metal and gem stones within. We eventually came to a larger bridge, wider than any we had come across before this point, it spanned a wide gulf, little wonder for we were quite high up here and the pinnacles of rock of course were cone shaped and narrower and therefore wider apart the higher one went. As we walked out onto the span we went under an ornate gilded arch, two guards in similar shining armour to that of our guides stood upon either side, neither batted an eyelid as we walked between them even though Łĩnwéé grunted a greeting and a name under his breath. About halfway across I was tempted to look over the side of the bridge, so I jumped up and edged my way over the thick slabs of stone that formed the parapet. I looked down and could see the rock formations on both sides of the gulf that we crossed reaching way down into the depths. I could just make out far below the white clouds that formed in the chasms between the many towering pinnacles upon which the city was built. I gazed down in wonder. Not for the first time I found myself wondering what was down there far below the city.
I jumped back down and caught up with my companions just as they walked through another gilded arch on the far side of the bridge and out into a large open area of greenery in which many trees grew. I was amazed to see a wide torrent of water flowing through what looked like the mouth of a cave high up the wall of the cavern. This was where the river entered Gwéldølĩn, probably from some hidden vale upon the surface of the world above, or perhaps from a subterranean water course beneath the mountains. The water fell from such a height that it turned to mist before it reached the same height as the plateau on which we stood. A number or concentric ringed rainbows hung about the falls. My eyes followed the misty water down until I could see in front of us across the far side of the plateau upon which we stood, a lake of crystal clear water. The waters of the lake in turn flowed out and over the edge of this plateau via a wide but gentle cascade. A further rainbow hung within the mist of these waters as they plummeted unhindered into the depths below. I wished that I could go closer to see this beautiful lake, for around the edges in the shallower waters grew many flowering aquatic plants giving the impression of a
flat mirror surrounded with an ornately carved and lacquered frame of colourful flowers. The shining Brĩschlåûndérgré could be seen clearly reflected in the crystal waters where they hung directly above us, they seemed as high above us as the water I had seen beneath the bridge was below. In front of us a long road lead through the trees to a sumptuous looking building sitting in its own grounds.
About halfway up this wide avenue I could see that the road divided into two and circled around a low wall beyond which a grassy mound rose in a slight incline until it reached a pedestal on which stood a golden statue.
Before continuing I wanted to once more gaze upon the beautiful surroundings and eventually I turned to look back across the bridge at the city, my eyes fell on a window in a building back on the city side of the bridge. A dark figure in the window appeared to be taking a great interest in us. The figure looked to me to be too tall to be a Grûndén. I stumbled on a shallow step and after looking down to aid my recovery I again looked at the window but no figure could be seen. I frowned, more dark and mysterious figures, perhaps the same one as before. I wanted to say something but thought I can’t claim yet another sighting of the same figure for they will all think me totally mad. I persuaded myself to put this down to my imagination and tried to think no more of it.
We proceeded to walk up the long, wide avenue towards the building we could see, this must be the Grâumin’s palace. As we got nearer to the fork in the road that skirted either side of the grassy mound and the golden statue I could begin to see the wide pedestal upon which the statue stood in more detail. Now we were closer I could see that the impressive structure was of great size and could now be seen to be covered in depictions of many activities of Grûndén life. I could see miners stripped to the waist wielding picks and shovels against some rock face. I could see soldiers in full armour looking grim and determined following behind a Grûndén who stood ahead of the rest holding at arm’s length and high above his head a great battle axe similar to Łĩnwéé’s, his mouth open as if shouting some war cry. Another sculpture depicted a much bigger vista where the figures were much smaller; many stood upon a vast wooden scaffold system and were hauling on ropes that ran around a series of pulley wheels. They seemed to be lifting a great ball into the air, then I realised it was a depiction of one of the great globes being lifted and positioned high above the city, or maybe somewhere else, remembering what Łĩnwéé had told me earlier. At the very top of all this upon the topmost tier of the pedestal there knelt a single figure, not really Grûndén looking but with bare chest and long wind-blown hair, his muscled arms held a flat plate on which was carved a model or maybe a relief map of the city of Gwéldølĩn. This was tilted down towards us, to any who would gaze upon it as if the statue was offering Gwéldølĩn to any who would wish to look upon her beauty.
When we arrived our escort handed us over with some ceremony to a contingent of household guards who emerged from the palace. These guards were also in full armoured regalia, but they had tabards of a deep blue on which was sawn a golden double headed axe front and back and their helms had a similar blue axe shape carved from some blue mineral as a nose guard along with a blue feathered plume set in the centre designed so that it hung down the rear of the helmet over the neck guards. These Grûndén guards as usual looked very smart and splendid. It was obvious that despite their reputation the Grûndén did indeed place a lot of effort into looking their best at the right times.
We entered the palace compound and found ourselves within a walled area of formal gardens. Many well-tended flower beds and beautiful fountains adorned our path. But once across we came upon two great heavy set doors that were already open. Before going through these doors we passed beneath a white and blue striped awning that moved lazily in the breeze. Once inside we were escorted along great halls and through state rooms until we were bid with a bow to wait in a seating area outside of a pair of great wooden doors ornately carved with scenes of what could only be Grûndén history, of which I knew very little.
I was studying the murals and paintings the quality and craftsmanship that went into making them was obviously high, when there was a loud clunking noise and the two carved doors began to move outwards and open. I stepped back expecting to be greeted by some aid of major-domo but as the opening became wide enough, a group of about thirty Grûndén filed out, all were talking excitedly to one another. All were dressed richly and most had a number of large and very precious looking jewels adorning them whether rings or circlets, or even jewels sown into the very cloth of their apparel. None wore armour or had any weapons about their person except for some small daggers and a couple with small silver pick axes that looked more ceremonial than true weapons of warfare.
Łĩnwéé gestured towards these Grûndén and whispered to us saying, “these be very high rankin’ members of the Miners Guilds, they be some of the most prominent dignitaries in Gwéldølĩn, very influential people.”
I watched them file out of the room and then we were being addressed by another haughty looking man in fine raiment of similar blue to that of the guards, but no armour did he wear just a fine velvet long coat, with velvet breeches and knee high stockings. His feet were set into fine blue leather shoes adorned with a large buckle at each side again depicting that battle axe motif. Obviously a member of the official household he asked us to enter the chamber that was now revealed through the opening of the great double doors, we walked forward and stepped inside.
This room was a repeat of the waiting room we were in a few minutes ago, equally adorned in paintings and murals depicting Grûndén history. Many wrought iron floor stands held elaborate floral arrangements; the many flowers filled the room with a multitude of pleasant fragrances. There were also many stained glass windows along each side which I guessed also showed major events in Grûndén lore. There were many depictions of battles, each with the Grûndén armies quite obviously victorious as their various foes lay vanquished around their feet. There were also other calmer portrayals of other subjects, one such mural had a male and female in an embrace, they sat upon a boulder as in the background an army of indeterminate race marched past in the distance, it occurred to me that these two Grûndén were obviously hiding from this army, I wondered what tale was depicted and its importance to the Grûndén. Another was a depiction of a Grûndén maiden holding a baby to her bare breast whilst several other children looked adoringly at her; somewhat theatrically she wore a long dress with nothing on her feet, yet upon her head was a winged helmet, a great war axe lay leaning against one of her legs, and a heavy looking shield against the other. In yet another window, this one set in predominantly dark stormy colours, there stood a collection of grim looking Grûndén in a beautiful forest clearing, some in armour but with their helms removed and held beneath their arms, some bare chested and holding picks and shovels. They were all standing with lowered heads and downcast gazes, some were kneeling upon the grassy bank on which they stood. I then saw towards the centre of the picture an ancient looking Grûndén again in full armour lying upon the grass one arm limp at his side. His breast plate had been pierced and a line of red blood ran down to where it dripped upon the ground. The other arm held by another much younger Grûndén who holding the elder Grûndéns hand had it raised to the lips as if he was kissing the ring upon the old Grûndén's finger. A group of soldiers to the left all looked menacingly at a single Grûndén that they held captive, this Grûndén had obviously been beaten, for blood seeped from between his lips and his features were swollen black and blue. A bloody blade lay at his feet.
I tore my gaze from this rather forlorn window and moved onto the next. This one brightened my mood and I was amused to see a depiction that I did recognise and have some understanding of, for in one window the coloured glass showed quite clearly a handsome young man, he was bare chested, well bare everything actually apart from a piece of flowing silken cloth draped about his waist at a strategic place. Muscles rippled across his body even though he was l
aying asleep on a grassy bank with his long hair stuck to the ground with various precious stones. A bit of poetic design there I thought. In amongst the trees in the background a group of beautiful looking figures gazed out upon the prone figure. I felt a shiver run down my back, these figures reminded me closely of the apparition I had seen when Serinae had shot the boar in the wilds. Perhaps it was just coincidence, but I mused that the story Dĩmmĩ had told us the day before now had an even more pertinent meaning.
Before long the major-domo as I thought him to be, ushered us forward along the room, I looked in the direction in which we were being sent and could see a Grûndén sitting upon a stone throne at the far end of the room. He was attended by armed guards in full shining armour with shields up and visors down, they could have been empty decorative pieces of armour but as we approached they stood to attention with the clatter of interlocking plate armour. At the side of the king, for the seated man was obviously just that, sat a female also in full armour, a winged helm upon the floor by her side. I guessed this personage to be his wife the queen, not that I was told the king had a queen but by the way she sat on equal elevation there was no doubt in my mind. But it did occur to me that she could just as easily have been his daughter for most Grûndén, like my own people, look ageless.
The major-domo left us at this point and bowing, shuffled back towards the doors. We continued up the room towards the two grand looking Grûndén sitting upon the thrones until we stood in front of them at the bottom of the dais on which the thrones were set. I felt both their stairs upon us and I could not help but look down towards the base of the raised dais where both thrones stood.
Both Łĩnwéé and Serinae had removed their helms and now held them beneath one arm. Bowing low Łĩnwéé introduced each of us in turn and the two Grûndén on the dais nodded slightly to each one as we bowed in respect to them. They were introduced using the common tongue as The Grâumin most high, Théøndrĩn Ârkønstøné the twenty seventh and his wife the Grâumun most high, the lady Frĩthâ Ârkønstøné. Once the introductions were complete the Grâumin Théøndrĩn Ârkønstøné immediately stood up from the stone throne.
Firstly he faced Łĩnwéé and said, “Welcome home Commander Łĩnwéé Ârcønrâdénn True Aid of Gwéldølĩn, we are blessed that the Lord Øédréll has seen fit to return thee safely back to us.”
Commander – True Aid of Gwéldølĩn? Suddenly Łĩnwéé, this titled soldier who had travelled with us took on a whole new light.
Théøndrĩn Ârkønstøné then turned to Serinae and smiling said, “My Lady Serinae Timbur True Aid of Gwéldølĩn, ye are of course known to us, your long service to our people is held in the highest esteem even as one of our own. As always ye are most welcome once again into these halls. My heart is much gladdened by your presence in Gwéldølĩn and your stay we hope will be long.”
Serinae bowed at his kind words. I suddenly remembered the story of Serinae’s chain mail and realisation that this was of course the Grûndén city where it was made. Théøndrĩn continued to make his way down the line of my companions. He thanked each of us, always in the plural for coming to see them at such short notice and explained that times dictated some urgency to our meeting, he expressed hope that we would consent to await any refreshment and entertainment. He, or ‘we’ in his words apologised if such short cuts had offended us in any way and if correct protocol had been breached. But he explained that there was an urgent matter at hand and little time to address it.
Without wasting any further time on pleasantries he walked towards a secretaire to his left. I had not noticed this piece of furniture before; within the secretaire were many drawers and little cupboards. Théøndrĩn reached in and opening one of these cupboards revealed what appeared to be a glass or crystal cube. He removed the cube and coming back in front of us, asked if we knew what the object was.
We all remained quiet until Serinae said, “I believe it is a telling stone, a remnant of the old order, they are no longer common place in this world. Indeed it is a very rare item.”
Théøndrĩn looked at her and smiling sat once more upon his throne, he said, “Aye, that it is our wise T’Iea friend.” He looked at the telling stone and raising his eyes said to our assembled group, “and what a fine telling it holds within it, we would like you all to see the story recorded within, for it is a mystery to us. Then perhaps you may help if you can in our understanding of what it means.”
He held the stone up in front of his face and closing his eyes seemed to go into deep concentration. Slowly a pool of murky smoke appeared around the stone and swirling within the smoke in the air before our eyes a scene grew in both size and clarity until it seemed to be all around us and we seemed to stand in the very midst of this new place. It really was as if we all stood within the scene like a set of a play. I could feel darkness, I was even able to take in the smell of the place. I panicked slightly for nowhere could I see my companions or anyone else, I began to think that perhaps I had been transported here, some dark arcane energy had whisked me off to another place. But I became aware that another was also there with me, I knew it was a Grûndén but neither somehow I also knew it was not Łĩnwéé, neither was it Théøndrĩn or Frĩthâ his wife. It was another, I shuddered, almost cowered, for I perceived this Grûndén’s heart was black. I shivered in anticipation of what I was about to experience.
I then seemed to experience this new place through the eyes of another as if I was there but somehow I was someone else. I then realised I was feeling what the Grûndén was experiencing.
I …….. no, the Grûndén struggled in the inky darkness. He felt the rocks; he felt the darkness itself, the crisp dryness of the ancient air which he breathed into his lungs already giving the inside of his nose an uncomfortable cracked feel. He could even detect the space surrounding him. But still he struggled, why? He knew why. Something was out of place here, this was not his home, this was not the great city under the mountain, not even the mines that lie below the city. Why did he come here? What was this place? Neither mine nor cavern. This was an old place, a forgotten place, a place beyond time itself, its aura was more than ancient, as if it had existed unchanged since the Maker had awakened and the steady passing of time first began.
As I experienced the picture unfolding before me I perceived this place wasn’t influenced by habitation or exploration, it didn’t even seem to have an opening to the outside air. Its entrance was a gateway, not as we know it but a kind of path through which you passed but did not walk.
Yet I saw through the eyes and senses of the Grûndén, his name I knew was Ķablik, just as I would know my own name.
It seemed that like the Ķablik, I felt a sudden panic overcoming me. He had heard something, like a rush of air, indeed I felt warm air flow about my face, I reached up to my hair to stop it from being blown around but my fingers felt it unmoved behind my ears. I perceived Ķablik unable to find direction, how to get out? How to get anywhere? In his hand the cold feel, the feel of something solid, a reminder of his reason for coming to this place, the item he was tasked, no forced to find and retrieve.
Then I felt emotional thoughts rage through Ķablik’s mind. The long-ear thief had dragged him to the place inhabited by the grizzled folk, the city of the old ones, those strange beings with their blue eyes and unnatural bodies, their unmoving features, never knowing whether they be friend or foe, good or evil. Ķablik felt nauseated thinking about the arcane forces that had transported him there, through the old one’s portal. Then that sound again, the rush of hot air, the rush of something moving or causing something to move, sudden foreboding moved him onward.
Oh why had he, come here? Why had he accepted the coin? Of course it was a lot of coin, he had lived well before setting out on this journey, but his riches and high living had been spent now all that coin had gone, he allowed himself a smile, the Inns the drunken brawls, the travel to far cities, but had it been worth it? Hate filled his heart as he thought of the snooty
long ear thief that had persuaded him on this path. He Ķablik had taken the long-ears’s coin and with it forsaken his freedom and yes, realised his doom.
He thought himself clever, he would outrun the stupid thief, but it was not to be. How had the thief found him again? He had travelled round the world, visited numerous cities and carefully hidden his tracks many times over with false trails, bribery and even with a few disfigured unrecognisable corpses dressed in his clothes. Yet one night that hand upon his shoulder! He shuddered. The thief must have employed the services of an expert ranger, or even been trained in the ways of the long-ear rangers himself.
Then the inevitable, he was forced to do what was bid of him, he scorned his greed, he had taken the coin, and now the thief was most insistent, he recalled how every joint in his body felt like they were being pulled apart, the torture of it, he Ķablik had been reduced to a snivelling pile of distorted flesh and bone, the long-ear thief smiling at him, persuading him through his torment that he should finally do the task bid of him and that he should uphold the unbreakable agreement made. How he hated long-ear mages, they were not natural, those wielders of arcane power.
So he had travelled yet again, forced to do the bidding of another. He had gone to the place where he was told to go. The thief had accompanied him this time not that they travelled together, but Ķablik never the less knew the mage to be there, watching, waiting, smiling, not willing to let him out of his sight. Thus Ķablik had found the ancient with the blind eyeless sockets, the one they called the Key. He sat upon his tattered rug outside the cave in the frozen mountains of the far north, high in the lands that the Ognods held sacred. Even the Ognods would not venture there. Ķablik shuddered, if the giants had captured him he would have been dinner for their whelps, his bones sucked clean and thrown to those monsters they kept as pets.
Yet he had been clever and evaded capture and now here he faced at last the old Key sitting deep in prayer and meditation. The key had stood and standing there in nothing but a tattered loin cloth and a thin sheet over his shoulder he had greeted Ķablik like an old friend, as if he expected him. Even in his blindness he saw even though his eyes had been put out. But the Key had dutifully opened the portal and Ķablik had been forced to enter. The long-ears cackling laughter still rang in his ears, mocking him for his foolishness?
Then it struck him, the Key’s blind eyeless sockets, he removed a strip of thick leather from around the bottom of his coat and wrapped it around his eyes, tied in place with a strip of cloth from his jerkin. Slowly a picture formed in his mind, he could see! Excitement growing in him, yes he could see, very dimly but yes there was a map of the void in his mind’s eye, a picture of the various tunnels and where they led, some went nowhere, but a couple had a feeling of no end, at least not in physical sense. So there were ways out of this place after all! Other portals although he had no clue to where they may lead. But any would be better than here perhaps.
His confidence grew, some of the fear and anxiety diminished. He made his stumbling way to the nearest endless tunnel and to an exit way. But that rush of hot air again, only much hotter this time. He perceived a redness behind him, a subtle blood red blur, his thoughts raged a moment, sudden horror welling up inside, of course that rush, how can it be? He knew that form, that presence, true he had never seen it for himself before but he had been told, all his life he had been warned to beware of such things, be always vigilant while mining and exploring beneath the ground. All the miners were taught to avoid these things. His people, the Grûndén dug, they had dug for millennia, honed mining to a fine art, but not everything they found was to their liking, not everything was to their benefit, and such things as these were to be avoided at all cost.
Suddenly he was on his feet and running, he tripped, smashed his shoulder into the wall of the tunnel, fell and managed to pick himself up, the pain in his shoulder dim and unnoticed compared to the anxiety growing in his heart. He knew it would move far faster in these tunnels than he could, it was looking for food and in any moment it could find it! Panic spurred him onward, how far had he gone? He didn’t know. Then in front he saw the old blind Key standing half in, half out of an alcove in the wall, standing there waving at him and blocking his passage to the exit he was heading for.
Then my senses switched and I was looking at Ķablik further down a tunnel. I realised immediately from the perspective that I know saw through the senses of the Key. I looked upon Ķablik even though the Key’s eyeless sockets were just dark holes in his head. Yet the Key still perceived the presence of the Grûndén, the foolish Grûndén had stopped in his tracks. The Key beckoned to the Grûndén for there was sanctuary within the alcove in which he stood, didn’t the Grûndén know this place of safety from the nameless fear?
Then I was back in the mind of Ķablik. So thought Ķablik, the old one dog had come after all and now he wanted him to hand over the item, well he Ķablik was no fool, he knew a valuable item when he saw one, or felt one in this case, how the hated blind old Key wanted it, there was no way he was going to hand it over, not after the pain and anxiety he had endured coming to this hated place to find it. Ķablik did not intend to spend the rest of his miserable life running from the long-ear thief. No, he would uphold his end of the bargain, it was the only way he was going to be free of the accursed agreement he had so foolishly entered into.
Then the picture in my mind again switched to that of the blind old Key beckoning to the Ķablik, the Key felt the ever rising presence of the nameless fear getting ever closer, he thought that if Ķablik didn’t move soon he would not be there to move at all, why had he stopped the fool, why was Ķablik hesitating with that look of deep suspicion upon his face. Again the Key beckoned towards Ķablik and the safety of the alcove, he raised his staff in alarm, shaking it wildly. Ķablik had turned backing away from the raised staff as if expecting it to be a weapon, the fool it was just a wooden staff, a walking stick! What did he expect? What was he doing?
I could then feel the fear in Ķablik grow dramatically, I saw him turn back towards the Key, start to run, then for some reason stop. Ķablik’s fear had subsided, replaced with deep hatred and malice and also a deeply misguided amusement fed by some dark insanity that festered within his heart, what was he doing?
There came a rushing sound and hot air moved around the Key’s face, he perceived a heat haze moving up the tunnel around Ķablik, even when Ķablik’s hair smouldered, his beard smoking and dropping in clumps of flame to the tunnel floor. Even when Ķablik’s cloths burst into flames upon his back, Ķablik just smiled defiantly at the Key and suddenly drawing back his arm he threw something from his hand into a tunnel half way between them, there was a slight flash, and the blue glow of a natural portal, whatever Ķablik had thrown disappeared. A scream was heard from the direction in which Ķablik was standing, the sound cut off suddenly.
I perceived again through the old Key whose eyeless awareness turned back to look just in time to see Ķablik engulfed in flame, his clothes and his very skin instantly shrivelling from his bones and then even these glowed red and started to spit and fizzle as the soft marrow within boiled to superheated steam, the sudden pressure bursting the walls of bone and exploding them into thousands of fragments. Then even these were burnt to a cinder before they hit the rock floor finally evaporating as vapour on the air. The heat was much hotter now on the Key’s face, so the Key shook his head and sighed then turning walked into the alcove and safety.
The picture before me disappeared and I heard screaming from somewhere, was it Ķablik, his pain and dismay crying out in horror and agonising death. I felt the searing flesh, smelt the stomach churning aroma of burning skin and hair, the horror of his exploding body. I felt myself shaking, my hands, which I clasped together, felt wet with sweat. Every joint ached, my skin felt like a thousand needles were penetrating it all over my body. I unclasped my hands and placed both over my eyes, breathing rapidly my legs gave way and I sat hard upon the floor. Still I heard
the screaming, but suddenly I realised it was me. I became aware of hands holding me tight, aiding me to stand, a gentle but concerned voice in my ear. I turned and bursting into tears sobbed into Jon’s broad chest. I realised that I was back in Gwéldølĩn, back in the court of the Grûndén king.
“What’s wrong Mini, what’s wrong?”
I gasped for breath, “I felt … he burned, I felt it.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, looking up from where I had my head buried in Jon’s chest I saw Serinae, a worried look upon her face, “it wasn’t real Mini, perhaps it felt real, but it could never do you any harm.”
“Did you feel it to?” I asked in a gasping breath.
I felt Jon hold me a little tighter, he looked toward Serinae, concern upon his features, Serinae stared into my eyes and then dropped her gaze and shook her head.
“I felt nothing Mini, I’m sorry.”
I was aware that everyone waited for me to pull myself together, becoming slightly embarrassed I finally overcame my emotions, I took control of my hysteria and stood shakily on my own beside Jon. Then Théøndrĩn, turned from me and walked away. Taking the telling stone he walked back to the secretaire and placed the stone back into the little cupboard from which he had taken it. At the same time Frĩthâ was by my side, she took my arm and led me to her throne where she invited me to sit, this I did thankfully, firstly because I thought my shaking legs would not hold me much longer; and secondly it took me out of the centre of attention. She smiled at me and holding my hand in hers remained standing by my side.
Returning and standing in front of us, Théøndrĩn told us of a visit the day before from two Old Ones. They had turned up at the gates of Gwéldølĩn suddenly and unannounced demanding to see him with important news. He told how after allowing them an audience in which they said nothing, one of the two just handed him the telling stone which he had just shown to us. Théøndrĩn had demanded answers to his questions but they had given no responses. The only thing they had said was that Théøndrĩn should make ready for guests who would be arriving the following day and that he should show them the events portrayed within the stone. Then they turned and left, he didn’t see them again. Théøndrĩn continued saying that he had viewed the seeing stone several times and even shown it to others, always it showed the same thing, but none not even the Mining Guilds that were here just before we arrived could give any answers to what the story showed. At this he looked questioningly at each of us and remained silent.
Serinae then spoke, telling of how we had met the Old Ones or keepers on the road to Gwéldølĩn. They had not said anything to us but only that we would be expected and to make haste to the city. Apart from that none of us were able the shed any light on what we saw.
Something nagged at my brain, something wasn’t right about all that had just been said, but at first I couldn’t place what is was. But then realisation dawned. Théøndrĩn had just mentioned two Old Ones, only two had visited him, but we had met three on the road. I was trying to figure out what had happened to the third, why he had not shown up in the audience with Théøndrĩn. I was deep in thought about this when I vaguely heard someone question what it was that the Grûndén had been given by the old one, someone else wondered about the old one himself, the one called the Key. Serinae suspected that he was the Key of the void that we saw in the stone. The Key being a keeper title given to those with such responsibility, those in the keeper’s number who controlled access to such places.
I was then that I suddenly realised the events the others had experienced in the seeing stone and the experience the stone had shown to me where every different. Yes, they had seen the Key and the Grûndén called Ķablik, but they didn’t know his name. Suddenly I felt very confused.
But Serinae turned and addressed Théøndrĩn, “my lord, forgive me but I must ask a question. I know not whether it is linked to what we have just seen, but before we go on can I please voice it, for I believe it remains important to the future.”
Théøndrĩn nodded his agreement, so Serinae continued.
“We have travelled from the Pnook to be here; we were in Scienocropolis and discovered many things. The Pnook suffered an attack on their city from some dark army. We discovered that they had a visitor, a T’Iea who had in his possession a powerful item.”
At this Łĩnwéé stood forward and said in a loud voice. “Aye, a dragon scale.”
Théøndrĩn looked at Łĩnwéé and then back to Serinae a question on his features.
Serinae said, “yes, you would call it thus, but the Pnook understood it for what it really was, a device that holds many secrets, I am sure it is prised for the knowledge that it holds within.”
Before Łĩnwéé or any of the others could say anything Serinae quickly asked a question of Théøndrĩn. “My Lord, the person, the one of which we speak, we know he had plans to come here to Gwéldølĩn, that is partially the reason we are here, but the burning question in my mind and I must ask it, have you seen or had any reports of such a person here within the city?”
“Who is this person?” Asked Théøndrĩn in return, he stood with narrowed eyes, a look of deep suspicion upon his face, “why would he seek to come here, what is his purpose in all this?”
“I do not yet know, for sure, but I believe he is in league with dark forces.” Serinae repeated her question, “have you seen such a person?”
The reply was, “no, we have no reports visitors entering Gwéldølĩn, apart from the two Old Ones of course and until your company arrived at our gates.”
Serinae then said, “very well, but I have good reason to believe he is, or was here never the less.”
At this Théøndrĩn stood and said, “you doubt our word? If we have no reports then believe me none have entered. This city is impenetrable to outsiders, none may enter unannounced, it is impossible.”
Jon then stood and started to explain in a raised voice that this person was most probably here regardless of the security measures in place within Gwéldølĩn. Jon blurted out that there were other ways of travel that may allow secret entry into somewhere if the person had certain knowledge. I saw Serinae flinch at the mention of this. But a heated discussion ensued, but I was not listening to the points being raised by the various parties now involved. I was thinking about something else, something that I had seen and just now came to the forefront of my mind again. From my seat on Frĩthâ’s throne it suddenly occurred to me I had seen that figure in the window, maybe he was the T’Iea thief, perhaps the same one I had heard mentioned in the story within the seeing stone even. I slowly stood and said, “I have seen him.”
But I was not heard above the discussions going on. I raised my voice and shouting, said, “I have seen him!”
At this Frĩthâ stood and dropping my hand she went to Théøndrĩn and whispered in his ear. At this Théøndrĩn raised a hand and beckoned for silence, as he did so he turned to look at me. At this they all fell quiet and all eyes were on me again. I dropped my gaze to the ground and said, “At least I’m pretty sure that I have seen him.”
“Where Mini, where?”
It was Serinae who took me gently by the shoulders; I looked into her questioning eyes, but there was something else there showing in her features, a deep look of concern.
“I, I, it was as we stood at the end of the avenue leading up here to the palace. I saw a figure a dark figure standing in a window across the bridge from us, I only saw the figure for a moment. I thought it must have been my imagination again or a trick of the light.”
“So, we may have a spy in our midst. It would be a small thing to check and very prudent I feel.” Théøndrĩn called for guards, a number appeared, one obviously in charge came up to the Grâumin and words were said between them. The guards left as one and went through the door of the chamber. I guessed they had been sent to search the building where I had seen the figure.
Serinae looked down towards the ground, she seemed to hug herself, her arms
wrapped around her.
Théøndrĩn noticing looked suspiciously at her as he asked. “Who is he to you, this person you seek?”
She turned away eyes downcast, acting as if she had not heard the question.
“If you know or suspect something lady Serinae, then I demand that you tell me! I have the safety of this city to think of and nothing will prevent me from ensuring that duty is carried out, do you understand?”
Serinae continued to look at the floor. I had never seen her so meek before.
I felt I needed to break the silence that followed so I suggested something else that had occurred to me, “perhaps it is the same thief that was on Ķablik’s mind from the story told in the telling stone”
I received blank looks from everyone in the room before Serinae said, “who is Ķablik?”
I was taken back. Did they really not know the Grûndén s name? “The Grûndén in the telling stone.” I explained, “his name was Ķablik.”
Serinae spoke at last. “Mini I think you had better tell us more of what you saw in the stone, for clearly it is different from what the rest of us saw.”
At this all my companions murmured and nodded in agreement. Théøndrĩn beckoned to me to stand and relate my tale. This I did for it seemed that what I had seen and heard and felt went far beyond what my friends had seen. Also the fact that I had ‘lived’ the story whereas everyone else had just seen the story as it was depicted without gleaming any personal aspects on the part of the characters depicted. They had not seen Ķablik’s death for one thing.
When I finished my description of the tale Łĩnwéé exclaimed, “truly ye be full o’ surprises Min, fo’ ye saw much more than the rest o’ us, that be fo’ sure.”
“Yes much more,” Serinae agreed, “perhaps Mini you have a skill, a gift even, that you didn’t even realise yourself?”
But before I could ponder this or think of a reply, Serinae continued to speak. She addressed Théøndrĩn.
“Perhaps my Lord if I explain my earlier silence you may understand why I was reticent to respond to you. I have good reasons to believe that darker forces of evil intent are linked to the army that attacked the Pnook of which I spoke earlier, but as yet I cannot prove it. But the evil I suspect goes deeper than you may think. The spy, even the thief in the stones story was most probably, a T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran, a Dark Elf as they are called in the common tongue. So you will see that if this is indeed the case then some greater force of evil was abroad and we would do well to discover what its purpose was for surely it would affect us all in the long term. I do not know for sure, but I will tell you my thoughts, for your city may be in grave danger and I should prepare you for the worst.”
At this Théøndrĩn sat back on his throne and looked expectantly at Serinae. She related some of the story so far, but some parts she left out which perplexed me. She spoke of the attack on Corbond, our journey to Amentura, the fact that similar beings were seen there but not in such great numbers as in Corbond. She didn’t say anything about Solin and the message from the cylinder, but went on to tell of our journey to Scienocropolis and our discovery of the events surrounding the attack on the city and the drastic measure taken by the Pnook to stop the enemy.
She thought for a while and then continued by saying, “I now believe that the attacks are linked to the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran. I am sure they control the army. Either that or someone controls them and is in league with the dark bretheren. I also think someone is trying the army out, experimenting with them, perhaps to try and make them into an unstoppable force. I think there is a strong possibility they may well attack here next.”
I was aghast. I had heard of the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran, they were reputed to be T’Iea who had fallen under the influence of some ancient evil long ago. They were a darkness on my people’s history, one of which had reputedly split our race in two, pitching darkness against the light. A deeply sorrowful event. But I had always thought them a myth. No one had seen or heard from them for millennia. Their location in the world had never been found and thus no proof of their existence ever made.
Théøndrĩn sat upright and narrowed his eyes again whilst continuing to scrutinise Serinae’s face. “And what makes you think that my lady?”
Serinae stared back at Théøndrĩn then turned to look at me, “because I believe it was a T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran that Minervar saw in the window across the street I think we are being followed.”
“But how would this evil T’Iea get into the city, if such a spy were to infiltrate Gwéldølĩn we would know about it however stealthy this spy may be.”
Serinae frowned. “Not my Lord if he were known to your people, or had sympathy within Gwéldølĩn. Old friends that he may call upon to aid him.”
Théøndrĩn laughed, “impossible. No Grûndén would stoop to such an act, it would be impossible for any of my people to stoop to such an act of treason.”
“But what if such a person or persons did not know the true intent of this spy? What if they saw him as he once was, a friend to this city?”
Théøndrĩn frowned, some deep thought entered his mind. “So you think our darkest fears may have come forth milady? You think our old adversary has returned?”
Serinae frowned she did not respond at first, just minutes of silence pervaded the throne room.
Eventually Serinae looked at him, “Perhaps the Old Ones, the keepers, are trying to warn us, trying to suggest that they have been compromised in some way, infiltrated by the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran?”
Théøndrĩn nodded. “Then the situation is grave. If this is true, then our deepest fears have been nothing compared to what may be reality. Come milady, let us talk in private, perhaps your companions would forgive us and return to the city and await?”
Serinae nodded and looked at us, “please my friends do not see this as an insult, what I need to discuss is only known to Lord Théøndrĩn and myself. Please try to understand that it is of the upmost importance and the less who know the better, at least for now.”
I wanted to object, I felt we should not have secrets from one another, we had come too far to allow such things to come between us. But Serinae looked at me with such pleading that I bit my tongue. After all we had come far and secrets or not we had to have absolute trust in one another. So I turned and followed the rest of my companions as we found ourselves being escorted back out of the palace to await whatever outcomes may arise.