Chapter 15
Raphtune was waiting at the far end of the tunnel, a crouched, silhouette against red and orange of the fires that burnt beyond.
A city of leather scraps, wooden sticks and metal sheets had been built below the fortress. The small shelters made of stray pieces of waste went off far into the distance. Chaotic paths wormed their way through the city, made only of the space which had not been taken by the huts.
"Do not get close to anyone," whispered Raphtune, "they know each other well. Keep out of the light, keep to yourself, hide the bar, remember, no tongues. Don't follow me too closely."
Raphtune leapt from the tunnel, was down a thin path covered by heavy shadows and started to make his way through the city. Shaol followed and after a while the thin path joined a straighter, wider road in the middle of which sat barrels of small flames which lit the way ahead. Raphtune separated from Shaol and crossed to the other side of the street, Shaol held to his side and continued forward, over the tops of smaller huts he could see shadows moving along unlit paths.
The shacks were like the burrows made by the rats in the corners of the cellar, small pieces of stolen scrapes that were pushed together into a fragile tower of filth. The space inside each was only large enough for one or two people to curl up into.
An Under joined the street ahead, she silently wandered between the black and orange stripes of light made by the barrels before crossing the street. She moved with a speed, her body was upright and her arms stiff, her strides long, her steps firm then the Under vanished down another path and became lost in the darkness.
Shaol kept moving forward, making sure to keep track of Raphtune's outline which moved slowly and calmly in the shadows, occasionally he would disappear into the darkness only to reappearing again a short while later, slightly further ahead.
There were many smaller tracks which joined the road, if Shaol needed he could easily escape into the maze and hide which gave him some confidence as he walked passed the handful of others that sat on boxes at the side the streets, some watched him passed, other ignored him, none appeared to be concerned with his presence.
Yellow eyes burnt from beyond the halos given off from the barrels before vanishing again.
The shacks came to a halt and a square opened up in front. Makeshift stools, rugs and boxes fashioned into benches littered the area. In the centre, a large, metal oven glowed with a deep, red of slow burning coals that gave off a warm and inviting heat. A handful Unders were sitting by the oven hunched over a collection of small, metal things on a stone slab.
Shaol hesitated at the end of the path, he needed to keep to the shadows, so he turned and kept to the edge of the square away from the light and the others. He walked around the red square and as he did he noticed barrels dotted here and there, as he passed one he looked in and saw himself reflected in the surface of the liquid inside. The water sparkled red in the light, Shaol looked to find Raphtune but he had vanished into the shadows again. Shaol looked at the water and wondered whether it was safe or poisonous, he could not be sure so he kept walking around the square.
Past the shelters, Shaol was able to make out the dim shape of the steps behind the city. They continued to rise and meet the stone ceiling above. The black wall still ran opposite it as far as Shaol could see.
Shaol left the square and was amongst the shacks again, he continued until there was another square. Again, an oven lit the cluttered space with the more barrels full of water.
Shaol saw the outline of another gate that led back to the city, a road cut into the stone led up to the gate that sat closed and blocked by iron bars, the Unders had not built their shacks on the road leaving the stones clean and bare. There were no guards at these gates, either, he had not seen any guards since he had arrived.
Raphtune tugged on Shaol's shirt and nodded towards a path that led away from the square. The two became hidden amongst the shacks, there was no movement except for that of some vermin scratching their own way through the shelters.
"Hassa comes to that square when the day ends, you can wait here for her," whispered Raphtune, "I have somewhere else to be."
"You won't stay?"
"No."
"I need you to write."
"A nod means yes, a head shake means no."
"I know that."
"Then you don't need me," said Raphtune flatly, "now, Hassa has long, white?"
"I know what Hassa looks like."
"Then, I'll be going. Be careful."
Raphtune turned down a small path and was gone.
Shaol looked upon the rest of the city as it turned to the left and vanished behind the slope of the steps as it followed the base of the fortress. He had time, so he decided to see how far the scrap city stretched.
Shaol used the small, dark paths to follow the steps and then turned to the left with them. Hundreds of feet ahead, another wall divided the space with an arch, as tall as the gates, sat open and unblocked, through it the yellow sunlight of afternoon flooded into the world under the fortress.
The shacks continued forward for only a short distance before stopping, all at once, at an invisible line that the shelters dared not cross. Beyond the line the space continued, empty except for the thin pillars that held the roof.
Shaol did not dare to step out beyond the cover of the shelters and into the open until he knew more about what lay ahead. Shaol turned towards the steps at the rear of city.
Chipped and cracked with age, the stairs had been neglected and forgotten. Discarded pieces of wood, fabric and metal had been allow to gather on the lower steps, while the higher ones were bare and untouched. Shaol put his hand on the cold stone, the temples were behind, he knew it, he only needed to find a way to get to them. A rat jumped from the scrap next to his hand and he pulled it back as the creature skittered across the stairs and into the darkness.
Shaol turned back and aimlessly walked the trails between the shacks. A few Unders slept quietly inside their dens, a few walked swiftly amongst the shadows.
The image jumped out at Shaol as he passed the open entrance to a hut. A face made of shards of broken pots stared up at Shaol from the floor lit by a single lantern that burnt in the corner.
The maker had arranged each piece precisely and with great skill, dark colours formed shadows which curved around the chin, the cheek bones were high and inset, its mouth curled into a slight smile of amusement, wild, black hair framed the face, its blue eyes danced and sparkled in the light. Shaol looked closely and noticed small pieces of glass had been placed between the clay, bringing a magical life to the face. Shaol pickup up a shard glass, it was blue like the fine glass that had once sat in the windows of Aksit's house. He placed the glass back sure to find the same place he had taken it from. No one in the city had ever made such a thing, no one would have dared.
Could Shaol have remembered his family if he was allowed make them from broken clay like this? It did not matter, he told himself quickly. Memories betrayed the lie that one could go back and there was no way back, not for him or the one that made this image as he had always told the kids that had come to the water caravan. Their families were gone and things such as this picture only turned them sour before their time.
"Who is the boy?" came the voice of friend.
Friend had squashed herself into the shack, her wings crowded behind her.
"I don't know," said Shaol looking at the picture.
"Not that," whispered Friend, "the boy that travels with you."
"Raphtune? He's helping us."
"And what does he want?"
"To see the fortress, nothing more. He doesn't need anything from us."
"We must get below as quickly as possible the Grey Men are recovering their strength," said Friend, "come, I will lead you."
"I'll get Hassa first. We will go after that."
"There is no time for that," snapped Friend, "we must go now."
"Hassa will know how to get us into the fortress."
/> "We do not need them now, we are beyond the black wall. We must go alone and get the box."
"I need their help."
"I will guide you."
"You don't know what we face."
"We need to move quickly and we will move quicker alone."
"Hassa will know the way better than either of us."
"What do you know about Hassa?"
"Nothing."
"And this boy with you? What do you know of him?"
"And the one with the burning eyes?" asked Shaol annoyed by the questions.
"We have been friends since you were a boy."
"But I know little about you."
"Do you trust me?"
"I do," said Shaol, "I also trust Raphtune and Hassa."
"Shaol, you must understand the fortress is a dangerous place?"
"I know that, Friend," interrupted Shaol, "that's why I need them."
Friend was silent for the moment and her burning eyes narrowed.
"The Grey Men will not wait, they may come for you soon. We must get to the temple tonight."
"We will move as fast as we can, Hassa will know a way through the fortress by now."
Friend was gone from the corner of the shack.
Shaol looked at the smiling face one more time and then went back to the trails. More Unders now walked the paths of the city, some were hauling goods over their shoulders, over darted in and out of their shelters.
The square was alive as Shaol approached it for the second time. All manner of Unders dressed in simple leather sat around the oven which had now been stoked brighter than before and lit the hovels at the edge and a few more beyond those. The sweet smell of meat cooking filled the air as Unders scooped up water with cups from the barrels and drank without fear, two Unders were working together to fill a copper tub with water.
The number of clay slabs and small metal things had grown, some Unders were holding clay shards which they gave to each other for some reason. One man was showing a group of Unders a small empty bowl, he threw a leather rag over the bowl and then pulled it away. Somehow, the bowl had a stone sitting in it, the Unders that watched on clapped and whistled.
"Good Evening, Shaol," whispered a voice in his ear.
Shaol spun around, there stood a young woman slightly taller than him, her hair white and wispy scattered wildly from her head, reflecting the fierce light of the square. Her body was rake thin, her arms were long and made of only bone and slender muscle.
"Hassa," whispered Shaol.
She grinned and then put her finger to his lip.
"This way," she whispered and nodded towards a path.
Hassa took Shaol from the square and down several paths. Her dress made of leather clinked as the pieces of metal that had been worked into the back and front knocked together, in a way it resembled the armour worn by the guards that patrolled the city. Shaol then noticed the two long knives in leather sheathes that hung from her belt.
The light became dim as the trails continued. Hassa stopped in front of a hut, pulled back the leather sheet covering the entrance and motioned for Shaol to enter. Shaol crouched down and entered the space and found a place on the bare stone floor. Hassa moved in after him and pulled the leather across the opening and sat across from him, her thin legs crossed in front of her.
"I knew you would come, Shaol," she said as she pulled a lantern from a corner and lit it, "sometimes I doubted but here you are sitting across from me."
"I hadn't forgotten you," smiled Shaol at the warmth, "your voice?"
"I have something for you," interrupted Hassa.
Hassa rummaged through a pile until she produce a small clay shard.
"Here is your message." she said with a smile and handed him the shard with something was scratched onto the surface.
"I can't read."
"Oh," she laughed of a joy, "I'm sorry."
Hassa lent across the space and wrapped her hand around his.
"It says 'Come, no Orsil, clerics only, ready,'," she read and looked at him, "it was my first message to you and Raphtune."
"Thank you," smiled Shaol, "you couldn't get it to us?"
"No," replied Hassa shaking her head, "there's no way to climb the fortress wall. Whoever told you a man fell from it was wrong. The tunnels and the sky are the only ways in or out."
"But, how do you speak?" repeated Shaol, "Raphtune said?"
"So much has happened," smiled Hassa, "but it is unimportant, you have have gotten out of the city and that's what important. I knew you would make it."
"What happened to you?" insisted Shaol.
"Look at the shard."
Shaol turned the clay shard in the lantern light, at the bottom was a dark stain.
"My blood," said Hassa, "I was trying to climb high enough to get the shard over the wall when I slipped and fell. That was when the darkness took me, Shaol, and in that darkness there was another world and in that world I found the one who built Tarlnath.
"He brought me back to guide you, he gave me my voice so I could tell you everything I've learnt. He said you would come, he said you would listen."
"Who has whispered these things to you?"
"Sulla, the one who built this city."
"I've spent my life in this city and I have never heard that name."
"I know, Shaol, they've taken so much from you, your life, your freedom, everything you could have been."
Shaol became quiet as he became concerned for the one that sat across from him. In the weeks Hassa had been forced to wait, the thoughts had found her but he did not have time to help Hassa now, once he had the treasure he would take her away from the city and then he would deal with the poison thoughts.
"Hassa, can you get me into the fortress?"
"The fortress is yours to take, Shaol," said Hassa.
"What about the Grey Men who hold this place?"
"They sit in their towers, like they do everyday, the fortress is empty except for us."
"We need to go beneath the fortress. There are temples behind the steps that I must reach, then you can go home."
"How many will your friend save, Shaol?"
"Do you know a way?"
"You, me, a few others, I suppose. And then, what? The Masters go and take forty more from Ulnsearth or the First Kingdom or Darkstone."
"There is no time for this, Hassa, the Grey Men are coming for us."
"Do you know how long Tarlnath has stood?" continued Hassa leaning forward and squeezing his hand around the clay, "do you know how much misery it has brought?"
"I know what this city has done to us," said Shaol looking sadly at the one across from him.
"Not just to us, but to the countless men chained to its stone through the ages. Men destroyed, children enslaved, all for a broken land of nothing. Together we can end it, once and for all. There will be no city left in the dead lands, no longer a home for the pathetic Orsil."
Hassa's eyes were wet with tears, the lantern's flame danced across the eyes, the poisonous thoughts done their work and corrupted her mind with strange visions. But her tongue had been brought back, it was then Shaol knew what had happened to her.
"The Grey Men have already found you, Hassa," said Shaol firmly, "they have tricked you with their magic, you need to fight them and help me find what I need."
"The Clerics are nothing compared to the power of Sulla. They are nothing but mindless, irrelevant relics. They covet this place like every other creature that has claimed to rule it, seeking a lost power ignorant of the fact the city is long dead and we along with all the others are the ones who suffer for their delusion.
"They hide in their towers not because they hold anything of worth, it's because they seek something already gone and they'll do anything to keep everyone else from that nothing. Suffering is all that Tarlnath brings to this world and it is all you will find here."
"There is something below the fortress," said Shaol calmly, "the Grey Men are using thee vision to distract you
from the path home."
"We don't walk any path. Forget what you have come for, you don't need it anymore, you're all we need."
"We must get to fortress."
"You will listen," said Hassa forcefully, "he has been watching both of us. He told me of your kitchen where you would scrub the pots and Pysuun would pace. He heard you say my name, even when it was hard you never forgot me. You must understand, Shaol, you are the only strong man in Tarlnath and that strength can tear this place apart."
Hassa paused with a wide smile on her face, her hands still held Shaol's tight around the sharp edges of the clay.
"Tarlnath was once a place of great beauty," whisper Hassa, "but now it has become diseased and rotten and it has been that way for more years than any can remember.
"Sulla wants to end it, remove his stain from the world. I want to end it. And I know you want to end it as well, then we can go to peace, Shaol, where the world is quiet, the forests are endless and no suffers."
"There's no such place, Hassa, there's no such way" replied Shaol as though he was talking the kids at the water caravan, "you speak like all the others new to the city but you must listen to the one who knows this place well, nothing comes from these thoughts. "
"The true master of Tarlnath has more power than the bird-woman who talks to you and he does not offer a token gesture of few lives. He will give you the city, like you want."
"One man cannot not do such things."
"You can Shaol, you are different."
"The Grey Men would love nothing more than to see us lose our way now that we are so close. Please, Hassa, you must believe me, you think only the poison thoughts of the Old Ones who struggle against their bonds because you don't want to see what you are, you need to fight it. Help me get below, we can go home and then it can be truly done. Please, stand against the Grey Men with me."
"You'll see it and you will understand," said Hassa with a nod, "I'll have my men bring Raphtune from his cave."
"Men?"
"Yes, there are others here who wish the same as you," said Hassa, "and they have been waiting longer than I have for you to come."
"I cannot take them all. Escape is not easy."
"Not on the broken path you walk."
"It is the only path I will take, Hassa."
"Then tell me," said Hassa her voice is hard, "if you could, how many you would take?"
Shaol was quite, he would not listen to this madness anymore.
"It is a simple question, please answer it. How many would you save? For the lives dragged through the gates and fed to insatiable hunger of this city. Their blood drained, muscles torn and bones shattered, so that the dying beast can lumber on. How many for the children torn from their parents arms, for tongues ripped from the mouths of the innocent, for friends thrown to the pits of vermin."
She lent forward.
"Tell me, Shaol, between none but the two standing before the end of it all. How many would be enough for you?"
"There aren't enough," he replied his voice cold and angry, "because we can never have back what has been taken."
Shaol looked into Hassa's eyes and moment passed between the two of them.
"The city has taken your mind," whispered Shaol, "you must be strong and fight it, you must not let the poison thoughts sit."
"The thoughts are not poisonous and even though you hide from them, you know this too."
"A place I can dig, this is what I need. Will you take me?"
"I will," nodded Hassa and pulled herself from the space.
Shaol had come too late. Hassa had already turned but he would not lose another. He would take her from this place and, hopefully, Hassa could find a kind of peace somewhere in her home far from the city.