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Pet'r couldn't see the great mountains as yet. But he had read volumes of information about them and heard stories during his short stay in Varspree; stories of great cliffs, of glaciers, of canyons with crashing streams, of great trees growing near the water clinging to their hold on the soil, despite the overwhelming force of the water's rush, and more told about the snow, either softly dusting everything it touched or sometimes flying so thickly one could see no further than a step ahead.
Now he had decided and finally taken those first steps, he could hardly wait to see these things and felt some need to hasten not knowing whether from his excitement, or his concerns.
The country through which he strolled was largely a patchwork of long, low pastures with an occasional stand of trees, often surrounded by cattle or horses. The land was greener than any Pet'r had ever seen.
His home was by the southern seas and had more tropical vegetation than here. So the green here was more vivid and pleasant, comforting.
He saw cottages near the road. Occasionally, he would stop at one to get more water. The people seemed friendly, inquiring about where he was going, advising him about travel conditions a little further along and warning him about some of the dangers of the mountains.
"It'd be best, I believe, if you steered a little to the east as you go, probably follow the Vranila valley. You should come to a pass that will keep you out of the snows already falling up high," the elder gentleman advised, nodding his head as he talked, as though to assure himself to trust his own memory.
"The valley, you can get to it about four days walk from here, will lead you to a river crossing. There's a ferry that'll take you across the Vranila River. Then you should take the road to the northeast, cause the road splits there.
The other road takes you in the direction of Voravia's land. That witch is someone you don't want to mess with, boy. Yep, you should stay away from there; she'll make a ghoul out of you quicker'n you can blink. Nope, you go northeast, that's the best."
Pet'r chuckled to himself about the old man's direction, but he appreciated the gentle hospitality and kindness of the him and his wife.
This trip's going to be perfect. What can happen?
For four more days, the trip was perfect. He rose in the mornings, cooked a small meal and a boiled a pot of clarfine to warm his insides. He took quick baths in the cold streams he walked beside, climbed into his clothes and sat by the fire until he was dry and ready to go. Pet'r couldn't believe how perfect it was and wondered if he and his friends were wrong about what they had experienced before.
On the fourth day, things changed.
Great, black, clouds were blowing out of the northeast as Pet'r woke. There was no rain but the ground wind was whipping the limbs about, some of the weaker branches were snapping and falling.
Dust was flying with each gust, blocking a view of the area. Leaves and other loose debris were flying about dangerously. The cracking of the limbs, the leaves rattling like loose sails, told him a storm was upon him.
He sat and watched the display for a few moments then rose, packed his belongings, and walked along the road in search of shelter. He began to have difficulty seeing where he was going, looking only at his feet shuffling along in the old tracks in the road to guide him.
The dust blowing in his eyes blinded him. He occasionally turned his back to the wind and walked backwards to have some relief from the onslaught. The wind tore at his clothing, he held tightly to his pack, and pushed through the gale as best he could.
Suddenly, the rain came. The impact of the water was so hard it felt as though someone, or something, had dumped great tubs of water over his head. Even his experience with many storms at sea didn't prepare him for this unrelenting torrent of water. And the winds blew more fiercely than he had seen before.
Knowing he was wandering recklessly, he decided to not fight the obvious and turned to his left behind a great boulder near the road.
The wind stopped blowing him around immediately, but the rain still fell in great sheets around his new shelter, dumping ample water on him still. But now he could see beyond his nose.
Looking around, he saw a small cave between the boulder he was standing beside and another one, even greater in size, next to it. He must find better shelter from this incredible storm. He looked about briefly, decided, ducked his head against the deluge blowing between the boulders and leaped into the mouth of the cave.
He tumbled several feet before stopping and the darkness overwhelmed him; it seemed to eliminate all light. He turned and looked back and could only see the faintest light through the water falling over the opening of the cave. He saw no reason to go back up the tunnel for now, turned and looked down the tunnel. He thought he could see a faint light ahead.
Thinking he should determine whether the light was real rather than just wait for the storm to end, he decided to explore the cave further.
He knew, in this darkness, he needed some way to mark where he was before he descended in order to return along the same route. He dug a small hole with his hand in the side of the tunnel and placed a scrap of leather, used to mend his shoes, into it to mark where he changed directions.
He looked down the tunnel again and began to descend. The incline was not too steep but not tall enough for him to stand, so he scooted on his backside for some distance without difficulty when he came to a point where another tunnel intersected with the one he was in.
Being unable to see anything in any direction, not actually knowing why he was doing this at all, and wanting to have as little uncertainty as possible, he sat and pondered his situation.
Time to make a choice. Go ahead, go back, or take the right or the left.
He decided to go straight ahead, but before he moved further he placed another object from his pouch in the passage he was leaving.
He then moved forward for some time, without varying from his straightforward direction, more crossing passages intersected, and he marked each one with another object.
As he progressed, he began to smell odors which weren't too offensive, just dank and musty. He attributed these to the dampness, but, as he moved deeper, the odors became more offensive.
Suddenly, he heard noises ahead. He stopped to listen intently but wasn't successful enough to understand the source.
Maybe it's time for me to go back. But then what is happening? I need to discover the cause.
He was beginning to doubt his exploration was a wise one. His curiosity got the best of him despite a gnawing doubt about the wisdom of continuing. He then he smiled curiously and moved forward more cautiously. He shook his head in disbelief.
Now he could see a light ahead, wavering as though from fire. And he could hear someone talking and grumbling, apparently in argument.
He crept up to the edge of the tunnel and peered cautiously into a small cavern. His tunnel came out at ground level and he could see across the floor of the cave.
Where I am must be an emergency exit of some sort, or a route to the other passages I saw.
Pet'r watched the activity in the room. Several men were wandering about busying themselves with chores. Two were standing near the fire, waving their arms and making some sort of guttural sounds Pet'r couldn't understand.
He ducked back into the darkness not believing what he saw. These beings were grotesque, with mangled bodies and twisted faces. The air was heavy with a repulsive odor even worse than the loads of fish Pet'r remembered from his youth.
Maybe these aren't men, if they are, there is certainly something wrong.
Suddenly one of the creatures growled loudly, then there was quiet. Pet'r slowly ventured a glance out of his passage to see what had changed and was roughly snatched into the room by several of the beings. They pushed, shoved and threw him across the cavern floor taking him to the fire. He decided not to fight.
As the capture took a few moments, he was able to determine there were
a number of other entrances and exits from this cavern, an interlaced system of passages coming and going in many directions and probably all with purpose. He quickly noted where he had entered the cave in relation to several objects in the room. He intended to escape and wanted to return to the correct tunnel. The leader motioned for the others to bring Pet'r nearer the fire.
"Waf ish vou do heer?" he spoke, a guttural sound barely making sense. "Hows do vou git down blow?" He shuffled around the fire toward Pet'r, knocking aside those gathered to stare, and those holding Pet'r's arms. He threw his arm at Pet'r, striking him in his side and almost knocking him down.
"I came down the passage to get out of the storm," Pet'r wheezed, trying to catch his breathe, "who are you?"
"Shud uph!" The man shouted and smacked him again, much harder this time. Pet'r twisted around by the blows, but slowly raised himself upright each time.
His pulse was rising, his breath was coming more rapidly and his eyes were beginning to glaze at bit. He looked directly at the leader but didn't speak.
"We kil vou," the man grunted, walked behind Pet'r, snatched a weapon from one of the others, raised it above his head and was bringing it with great effort toward Pet'r's head.
Pet'r reached over his head and, without looking, grabbed and stopped the weapon abruptly. The man , his hand stung by the sudden halt of the blow, yelled loudly while dancing around holding his hand, shouting, "Kil hm, Kil hm," he shouted at the others.
Several of those closest to Pet'r reached for him, but he moved quickly to one side, grabbed two of them by their necks and threw them back into the others who were attacking. They all fell tumbling like discarded dolls, one rolling through the open fire.
Three more attacked Pet'r. One leaped on his back, the others grabbed him around his waist trying to pull him to the ground. Pet'r reached over his head, picked the man from his back and tossed him at the leader who was now trying to get back into the fray.
The man's head struck the leader squarely in the face, smashing it into an even more horrible visage than before. The leader roared his anger and pain; the other man fell unconscious. They became entangled and fell to the floor, twisting and rolling.
Meanwhile the other two jumped forward and shuffled rapidly around Pet'r, trying to knock him off balance. Again Pet'r stepped sideways but this time he swung his arm around violently, striking the men on their necks, knocking them backwards and slamming their heads to the floor. Then he turned to face the others still on their feet; they stopped immediately, looked at each other, turned and ran for several of the other entrances.
He let them go, shaking his head. He stood looking about the cave. His attackers were lying about moaning, or gone. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed, trying to calm down. The leader and the one who smashed his face were still entangled on the floor. The leader was awake, moaning and trying to get free.
Pet'r was uncertain why he was free, and where all the beings had gone, but it seemed an opportune moment to escape. He turned, located his tunnel, ran to it and began to crawl as rapidly as he could up the steep climb. As he passed again into darkness he came to a passage. He checked for the mark he had left earlier, found it and proceeded up the long incline, repeating this as he scrambled through the dark. Soon he came to the top, pushed himself out into the open. It was a relief the storm had stopped.
He ran back to the road, turned northward, and jogged quickly along it until he spotted a small grove of trees away from the road. He stopped, looked back along the road, walked over and disappeared into the underbrush.
He found an open glade where the sun peeped through the leaves. He lay down in the wet grass, rolled over on his back and watched the great black clouds, still overhead, blow by for a moment while he rested.
I better go, those things may be coming out after me.
He jumped up, ran out to the road again, and jogged up the road for some distance stopping occasionally to look back to see if he was being followed.
After several miles, he stopped running. Breathing heavily, he looked around for a place to hide, walked into the woods on the right of the road, climbed to the top of a small knoll from which he could see back along the way he had come. He sat for a long time watching anxiously.
Nothing occurred, he was not being followed; it was quiet. Only the wind whistled through the trees overhead.
Pet'r sat, held his head in his hands, and tried to determine what happened down below. He could not remember anything after the leader had struck him in his side. He shook his head in bewilderment.
How did I escape, what happened? What's happening to me, am I becoming a freak like those beings?
He held his hands in front of him, turning them over, trying to notice if there were any changes in his appearance, but he saw none. He couldn't know yet about the streak of white hair beginning to appear just above his forehead; it was only a small band.
For now.
EVIL WAITS