Aaron continued in his thoughtful pacing. From the shelter, Mari appeared and stretched. She tucked her two knives into her belt, and ran her fingers through her hair to untangle it. Quickly twisting her hair into a braid, she walked over to Lorik and Braden who stood discussing the final leg of their mountain journey. “Do we have anything for breakfast?” she asked.
“Yes, milady,” said Braden who quickly fetched the satchel and pulled out some dried beef and vegetables. He then handed some to Lorik and Aaron.
They all ate in silence, watching Aaron and waiting for his next move. Finally, and with reluctance, Aaron tightened the strap on his sword belt and stepped out the door. Braden was right on his heels, with Mari and Lorik close behind.
Aaron set out east across the high, rugged pass, meandering through the upper peaks of the Kanton Mountains. The path kept to the southern face of the range and took on a noticeable descent. The crystal blue sky stood in stark contrast to the world below. Hovering over Celedon, as far as the eye could see, rested a blanket of white clouds that looked as if someone shrouded the world in cotton. The high mountain passage boasted no vegetation, just grey stones and piled snow, in the bleak terrain.
“What an amazing road,” Lorik observed. “To have this pathway carved out at the top of the world is astounding.”
Though littered with broken, jagged rocks, the wide trail allowed room enough to safely walk abreast. Glad for the momentary peace, Aaron feared they would soon face dangers far more severe than a hike across the mountains.
Behind Aaron, Braden and Lorik walked together. “I wonder if it’s raining down there,” he pondered as he looked down at the layer of clouds.
“I’m sure it is,” said Lorik. “In the south it must be early spring by now and this is the time when most of the region suffers heavy rains. In fact, if those clouds are any indication, the entire world below us is currently being drenched.” Lorik gazed at the clouds below. “This is the first time I’ve ever walked above the clouds,” he said. “It’s as if we have escaped the world completely.”
“Now you see why dwarves love the mountains,” Braden said. “We stand atop the world and think that the troubles below cannot reach us.” He looked out over the vast expanse of clouds hundreds of feet below them, a wistful expression on his weathered face. “I just wish that were actually true.”
“So do I,” Lorik replied. “So do I.”
They had walked for several miles, following the trail that wound its way around the peaks, when Mari stopped. “We are near the place where my brother and I escaped.” She pointed to a rock formation of two towering peaks with sheer faces and jagged cliffs. “It is near those peaks; we came out somewhere between those two massive columns.”
“She’s right, Captain,” said Braden. “When I was held prisoner here we were locked up near the summit of the mountain so that any who tried to escape had to contend with the terrain. It was a strong deterrent for those held there.” He paused for a moment. “When the city was overrun, I was in the upper level and all the prisoners were ushered out of a small portal near the base of those two spires.”
Aaron stared up at the rock formations which looked like massive, clawed fingers reaching into the heavens. “All right… Braden and Mari, you lead the way.”
Braden, side by side with the elf maiden, took the lead as Lorik and Aaron followed close behind, keeping the twin peaks always in their sights. Another mile up the trail the path divided, with the main road continuing east and a new path winding its way north, deeper into the mountains. It was this northern path that Braden and Mari followed, a dark, narrow ravine.
The path snaked through the gorge, hemmed in by mighty walls of solid stone. Cautiously they navigated, drawing ever closer to the towering twin monoliths that marked the entrance to the dwarf stronghold. At the end of the canyon the twin peaks met, looking as if some great hand split a single granite pillar with a cleaver. The spires reached skyward, towering above the narrow canyon which remained in constant shadows.
They arrived at the end of the passage, and with nowhere else to go, they stopped and waited as Braden examined the rock face. The expressive dwarf searched and checked every crack and indentation on the stone wall, looking for anything that might reveal the secret door. An hour passed and Lorik joined in, hoping to unlock the mystery and leave behind the cold, frozen mountain pass.
“Does your history speak of what happened after the Great War?” Mari came to sit at Aaron’s side.
“No, not in any sense that you are referring to,” Aaron answered. “What you call the Great War is known among my people as the time when we fought for and won our freedom. The history I learned speaks of liberation not deception.”
“Indeed,” Mari said thoughtfully, “but are your people truly free?”
“What do you mean?” Aaron asked.
“Think about what has happened in Celedon since your great revolution. Since the people of this nation cast off the King’s rule there have been wars, famines, uprisings, hatred, violence, and suffering. Since the time of the uprising against the true King you have forgotten the peace that once ruled Celedon, filling your history with those that are power-minded and ambitious, those who strive for supremacy and dominance over others.” Mari’s words fell hard on Aaron, and he fought the desire to try and defend against her accusations.
“It’s true,” he said, “you’re right. Since before I can remember, Celedon has suffered one conflict after another. Our history teaches that it wasn’t long after what you call the Great War the Royal Guard was formed to quell any future dissension and promote the power of the emperor. Our charter as guardsmen is to defend the peace of Celedon, and we’ve had to throw down more uprisings than I want to remember.”
“It does not sound very peaceful to me,” Mari said.
“You’re right about that as well,” interjected Lorik as he walked back toward Mari and Aaron. “I’ve been in the guard for a long time, and I can tell you that there has never been a season when we did not have to put down another squabble between provinces.” Aaron could clearly hear the irritation in his friend’s words.
“I think I’ve found it!” Braden announced.
The dwarf stood peering over a small stone imbedded into the mountain wall. It looked fairly natural to Aaron; only Braden seemed to find any fascination with it. Then Braden twisted it clockwise. Where there was once solid stone, a panel opened about three feet wide and two feet high revealing a set of three levers attached to chains. The chains disappeared through holes at the top of the opened chamber.
“Well, which one is it?” Lorik questioned.
“That’s where this gets tricky,” Braden answered with a note of hesitation in his voice. “Pull the wrong one, or in the wrong sequence and you bring down a wall of rock upon your head.” He looked again at the device. “This was designed to prevent any intruder from gaining access to the old realm. Only certain dwarves were allowed to know the combination, and those dwarves are long gone.”
“How do we get in, then?” Aaron asked. “We can’t just attempt a guess… that could end our fortunes rather abruptly.”
“Give me a moment to try and decipher the code. Many times I would hear the guards talking, and sometimes, if I remember right, they would mention the activation sequence for the door.” He paused, and then started mumbling to himself. “Two hundred years ago…”
The other three stood and watched as Braden examined the three levers, looking for any sign that would give him a clue as to which one to pull. He shook his head, mumbled under his breath, and reached out to take hold of the center lever.
He pulled, nothing happened. Again he pulled and nothing happened. Once more he pulled on the lever and the sound of stones grinding against each other shattered the silence of the narrow canyon. At the junction of the two massive peaks the rock face lifted to reveal a small door, no more than three feet wide, which opened into a long, dark corridor.
11
Heartache and Hope
“Quickly!” Braden shouted. “We only have a few seconds before the door closes again… get inside!”
The four of them rushed into the corridor, banging against the walls and each other as they went. Just then the door crashed shut, echoing along the hall like thunder and leaving them in total darkness. Beyond the door, the four companions could hear an avalanche of rock block the exit. Lorik carried the satchel and rummaged through the bag to find the small illumine stone. Smooth white light emanated from it, piercing the gloom with its radiance.
Braden stood in the passage like one who belonged in the cramped hall, his eyes gleaming in the white light of the glowing stone. “Shall we continue?” he asked. “We can’t go back and the only way out is through there,” he said as he pointed toward the deep blackness of the tunnel. Narrow and unadorned, the passageway extended well beyond the reach of their small light and vanished into darkness.
Aaron stooped to keep from banging his head. “I only hope that the tunnels get larger as we go!” Aaron said after he struck his head on the low ceiling, frustrated at the cramped conditions.
“Dwarves don’t usually carve tunnels to fit anyone else’s specifications,” Braden added. “But we should find that everyone can walk freely in them after we leave this detention area.”
“If this is a detention area,” Lorik asked, “where are all the cells?”
“This passage takes us to the prison,” Braden answered. “It goes on for several hundred steps and we should find a gate at the end that opens into a guardroom.”
Lorik nodded. “Where do we go from there?”
Braden continued, “Once we reach the guardroom, the hall of lords is a two-day walk. It has been some time, but I still remember the way.”
Aaron remembered what happened with Garam and looked over his small band of companions. “Now,” he said, “we all stick together. No one ventures off on some stray pursuit. Our main purpose is to secure the Book of Aleth and to find our way out again.” He paused. “I don’t know what to expect… so be prepared for anything.”
“That’s a good caution,” Braden said. “These halls must be filled with trouble now.” He looked at Mari. “Before you left, how many deladrin were here?”
“I do not know.” Mari spoke slowly as she recalled her time under the deladrin’s control. “Daily I would be brought before the daemons—until the word was out that the book was found. After that, they seemed far more interested in the Book of Aleth than in their interrogations of me and my brother,” said Mari. “For days we were left to ourselves, and that is when my brother and I were able to escape… they did not seem to care too much about us.”
“That could be an advantage,” Lorik said. “If they have no prisoners to guard, we may not find any of the creatures in these upper halls.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Aaron said. “Braden you know these passages…lead the way.”
The dwarf, taking the illumine-stone from Lorik, held it high over his head and, with his axe in hand, began walking down the long, straight corridor. The narrow tunnel forced the four of them to walk in single file, with Braden at the lead, followed by Aaron, Mari, and then Lorik at the last. They came to the end of the passage rather abruptly, stumbling upon a gate that was made of cast iron and fastened with locks. Upon closer inspection Braden found that the machinery securing the gates had suffered much decay over the centuries and, with only a slight effort, he thrust open the door. The snapping mechanism echoed within the old guardroom.
“This gate stood open when I came through it!” Mari exclaimed.
“What do you mean?” Lorik asked, walking behind her.
“I mean, when my brother and I escaped, we came right through this gate with no difficulty at all!” Mari’s voice quivered.
Aaron wanted to reassure his trembling companion. “Mari,” he said, his voice soft with compassion, “this locked door might only mean the deladrin wanted to prevent anyone from entering in the same way you left.”
Mari nodded. “Still, those creatures might be hiding in the darkness beyond.”
An eerie silence filled the cavernous space before them. They cautiously entered the room, drawing their weapons as they did. From the hilt of Aaron’s sword, the gemstone glowed with a pale green halo, illuminating his hands with its dim light. Braden, with the illumine stone in hand, began to examine the room around them. Lorik joined him as he walked around the small, square den. On each wall several locked gates hung precariously on rusted, ancient hinges, barring the way into the empty cells. Above them the ceiling rose and in the center of it hung an ancient chandelier covered in cobwebs and dust.
Aaron and Mari stood in the center of the room examining the contents on a small table, mainly ancient scrolls and parchments. Using the slight glow of the green stone, Aaron tried to read the old documents. Nothing he read made sense to him; even Mari couldn’t understand the old dwarf language.
However, Aaron did find something useful—a small tinder box with a flint stone. He struck the stone and found he could still gain a spark. The chandelier hung just above them. Wanting to retrieve the candles which hung just out of reach, Aaron reluctantly stood on the small table, unsure if the old wood could support his weight. He only just reached the hanging lamp when the table cracked and collapsed. Instinctively Aaron grabbed for the hanging fixture, but the chain snapped and he crashed to the ground with the chandelier and chain on top of him.
Mari quickly jumped out of the way as Aaron fell in a cloud of dust and debris. Lorik and Braden rushed to his aid.
“I’m all right,” Aaron announced. He brushed himself off and re-sheathed his sword. Among the litter, Aaron picked up three candles. “See if you can find some old torches or other sources of light. I’ve a few candles here.”
Lorik and Braden looked around but found nothing while Aaron quickly struck a small flame on one of the old candles. The tallow smoked and sputtered as the oily wax began to burn. With the light of the candle Aaron looked upon the remains of an ancient dwarf, reduced to nothing but a charred skeleton. The outstretched arm of the old guard grasped for a small, blunt axe just beyond his reach, perhaps falling out of his hand when he died. No clothing or garments remained on his body, just an iron helm upon his head, burned and without insignia.