“Well, we need to keep moving,” Lorik said. “If there is a creature haunting these corridors, we need to try and keep ahead of it.”
“No,” Aaron said. “We’re not going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this.” He turned again to Garam. “You said that the guardian roams these halls and yet you are the only one to have any kind of encounter with it. Why you? Why does it seem most interested in you and not any one of us? It is a rather particular wraith if that’s the case.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Garam protested.
“I think you do… I think you know more about this guardian than you’ve said.” Aaron would not relent from his inquisition. “Why did you insist on bringing us down here when you knew that this terror lurked in these catacombs?” Lorik and Braden looked at the captain with perplexity, obviously not knowing why he was so intensely questioning Garam.
Garam sat near the central pool, sullen and despondent. “It should have been you!” he whispered harshly. “It should have been you the wraith attacked and not me at all!” Glaring up at Aaron, Garam fixed his hardened gaze at the captain.
“What do you mean, it should have been me?” Aaron pressed, as he stood a little taller in dominant authority, arms crossed over his chest.
“The guardian is an ancient creature which thrives on the fears of others. I was certain that if I brought you down here it would have focused all its might against you, destroying you in the process!” Garam hung his head in humiliation.
“Why?” questioned Lorik.
“Because your people rebelled against the King and destroyed the kingdom!” Garam exclaimed. “It was your people who rose up against him and brought the centuries of darkness that all of Celedon has endured. You have no right to the Book of Aleth, and I will not see it fall into the hands of the emperor!” As he spoke his anger and rage grew increasingly hostile toward Aaron.
“So,” Aaron said with a calculated tone, “the guardian sensed yours was the greater fear and worked its evil on you.” Aaron paused as he considered his next course. “Garam,” he continued, “what are your intentions now?”
“I won’t let the book fall into the hands of the enemy again.” Garam’s voice was defiant but calm. “It belongs to those who wait for the restoration.” Lorik and Braden watched with keen interest, measuring the war of wills that raged between the two.
“And I tell you, dwarf,” Aaron replied coolly, “my intention is to find this book and finally unlock the mysteries that have plagued me since starting this little adventure. But, I will not let you or anyone else use the Book of Aleth to wage war.”
“Garam,” Lorik spoke up, calm yet resolved. “So, your intention was to bring us into these catacombs and use that shadowed creature to destroy us?”
Garam turned his head away and kept silent.
Lorik leaned forward, brows raised. “Was this planned by you or by your Lord Dunstan?”
Again, Garam remained quiet.
Then Aaron spoke up, “It doesn’t matter. The truth is revealed and your plot exposed. We still need to get out of these tunnels, however, and we will need you to guide us.” He paused as he stroked his growing beard. “What assurance can you offer that you will guide us correctly?”
“I want to leave these catacombs as much as you,” Garam said through clenched teeth. “As I’m able, I will take us to the southern exit.”
“As we’re all in this dungeon together, I fear I have no other choice but to trust you.” Aaron turned to Braden. “Return his axe; he may still need it before we find our way out of this place.” Braden handed it over. Garam strapped it to his side and straightened his beard. Aaron looked to his sergeant. “Lorik, you and Braden gather up our gear and prepare a small meal. Garam and I are going to examine the writings in this room.”
The companions separated and began to tend to their tasks. Garam and Aaron wandered around the pool of the obelisk and closely studied the writings that encompassed the water, hoping to unlock their meaning. Occasionally Garam would gasp in wonder at what he read, but did not disclose anything beyond that.
“Well,” Aaron questioned, “what does it say?”
“These writings are part of an ancient text… a prophecy describing the restoration of the kingdom and the coming of the King. Let me finish my work of deciphering them and I will tell you all,” Garam snapped. Again he turned his attention to the words encircling the pool and spoke nothing more until he had completely navigated around the entire perimeter.
****
Meanwhile, Lorik and Braden made preparations for a meal. They collected the packs and redistributed the load to make it more manageable for each person. Then Lorik watched Aaron and Garam walk slowly around the pool.
“I wonder what they’re talking about?” Braden asked.
“Well,” Lorik said, “knowing the captain, they’re not talking about anything other than their task. The captain is a gentle man for a soldier, but he will not tolerate betrayal. If he doesn’t trust you, then he can become a formidable adversary.”
“How long have you served with him?” Braden asked.
“He’s been my captain for three years… though I’ve known him much longer,” said Lorik, “and in all that time I’ve seen him overcome more than just an angry dwarf. He’s considered to be the most skilled swordsman in Celedon; and I have found him to be a cunning leader.”
“I’ve got it!” Garam declared. Lorik looked to see the elder dwarf waving his hands triumphantly. Lorik and Braden hurried to where the others were standing over the writings on the floor.
****
Garam knelt at the writings, wringing his hands in excitement.
“Garam, what does it say?” Aaron was anxious for answers.
“Apparently this is more than just a room; it is the central complex of the entire underground network. The pool is called the fountain of the King. There are four directional marks, one for each pole: north, south, east, and west. The writings between each of the pole markers are portions of the prophecy.” Garam thought through the writings again, still working on the translation.
“Each direction indicates something concerning the restoration:
From the south will come the one who sees
The truth of all eternity
From the east the hope for all mankind
The power of all that is divine
From the north will courage rise again
The heart to fight until the end
From the west will restoration bring
The spirit of the ancient King
“What does it mean?” asked Lorik.
Garam was still overwhelmed with excitement about discovering the complete text of the prophecy. “Mean? Oh, yes, I forget that the men of Celedon have never been taught the words of the King.”
“True enough,” said Aaron. “Most of what we’ve seen these past few months has decimated what I’ve believed since my youth. So, deal with us as if we were completely unfamiliar with the text you’ve just translated.”
Garam heaved a sigh. “Very well.” He paused to regain his thoughts. “It was said that from each direction of the compass would come the fulfillment of a portion of the prophecy. Each race was given a trust to keep… a responsibility to teach the words of the prophecy to their next generations. The entire text was lost, however, and until now there has never been a complete writing of the whole prophetic word. You can see why the finding of the book was such an important event for us; it signaled the rebirth of the prophecy for the truth was to come from the south!”
Lorik grew impatient with the ramblings of the dwarf. “So what does the entire text mean?”
“What it means,” Garam continued, “is that from each corner of the realm, a portion of the prophecy must come to fulfillment before Celedon can be free from the bondage of darkness. From the south it is said that one will come who will rediscover the truth and begin the process of freeing the nation from the deception of the emperor. From the east would come the power that could only be wielded by the King. From the north, the portion entrusted to the dwarves, was strength of courage, and we believed that it would be the dwarves who would bring that courage back to the nation. And from the west, as is written, the spirit of the King would rise again and bring restoration to the land. Of all the prophecies that were spoken, the one that gives us the greatest hope was the one that was lost…the prophecy of the south. Men were entrusted to pass on the knowledge of the King, but the emperor set out to destroy that knowledge, even killing those who still believed.” Garam paused to allow the others to take in the knowledge of what he said.
Aaron was deeply troubled, knowing that he had a hand in destroying those who still possessed knowledge of the King, those who were considered dissidents and enemies of the state. He no longer trusted in what he used to know and even more needed to recover the book, to discover the truth for himself. “It’s time to move on,” Aaron said with subdued seriousness. “Garam, which of these markings points south?” Garam pointed to his right, at a passage that meandered away from them into darkness. Without another word Aaron gripped the illumine stone in his fist, hoisted his satchel onto his shoulders and started walking with resolve to the southern corridor.
Long strides took Aaron away from the pool and through the doorway. Garam was the first to follow with Braden and Lorik close behind.
“But what about lunch?” Braden called and sprinted to catch up with Aaron.
Aaron was set in his determination, his countenance stern. Braden, in comparison to Aaron’s long steps, had to almost jog to keep up with him.
Aaron looked down at the dwarf who had stepped so lively to reach him. “So, Braden, are you still pleased to be out of the prison and in this dungeon with us?”
“Indeed, Captain,” Braden responded. “I wouldn’t have missed this journey for anything.” He smiled in the dim light, enough for Aaron to chuckle at the response. “But Captain,” he continued, “I do have a question for you.”
“Oh,” Aaron was surprised at that. Having known the dwarves for such a short time, he had come to believe that they were rather self-assured in their knowledge of things.
“Yes, Captain. How did you know to bring Garam back to the central room? How did you know that he would be freed once we brought him to the light?” Braden sounded sincere in his inquiry.
“I didn’t know,” Aaron responded slowly. “I simply thought, or rather, the thought came to me that it seemed reasonable a creature of shadows would find it difficult to endure the light.”
“Hmm,” thought Braden. “
Inspiration comes to those who seek the truth
, or so it is said in Brekken Dahl. Perhaps you were inspired.”
Aaron took another look at the dwarf who walked beside him. “Philosophical again?”
“No, not really,” Braden said, “just wondering what path you’re really on and hoping I can see you walk it to the end.”
“Well, then,” Aaron said, “perhaps you could answer
me
a question.”
“If I’m able,” Braden said.
“How is it, when we met in the barracks, you walked with a limp and now you seem as agile and able as any one of us?” Aaron looked down at Braden and chuckled as he considered how much his diminutive companion had changed.
“Oh,” said Braden with mock surprise, “well, in honesty, I was never actually crippled. I only did that so the other dwarves would leave me alone.”
Aaron nodded in amusement. “Well, for my part, I’m glad you were only acting.”
Afterward, both travelers fell silent in their own thoughts. Garam and Lorik, as well, walked along the corridor in silence; the only sound they heard was rhythmic cadence of their own footsteps. The passage they traveled was like the others: dark and cold. Their small stones were incapable of dispelling the murky blackness more than a few paces ahead of them. The cold, damp air chilled the companions to the core, causing them to hasten to their next place of rest. Aaron held out hope that the underground passages were symmetrical, and that the corridor would lead them to a guardroom like the one they had already stayed in.
After several hours of walking even the sure-footed Braden began to grumble under his breath about their continued travel. However, his protestations were short-lived when they entered into another guardroom, square and unkempt. A door which used to hang on the iron hinges was nothing more than a rotting pile of lumber on the floor. The room itself was no larger than the first, with three other corridors that emptied into the chamber. Like the other guardroom, a hole high up in the ceiling allowed for a small fire to be built and the smoke to escape. The remnants of furniture and a rusted iron pot littered the floor along with countless years of dust.
Aaron remembered their experience in the other guardroom and watched Garam carefully for signs that he was in distress. “Garam,” he asked, “have you seen any indication of the guardian, any shadow or movement?”
“No,” was all he answered.
“Then will you begin a fire for the night?” asked the captain.
Silently Garam began the task. Braden and Lorik gathered wood and piled it in the center of the room, directly under the ceiling vent. Garam bent down with his hands cupped around a small scrap of wood and spoke the words that would bring the flame. This time, however, though a blue flash of fire issued from his hands, the wood proved far too damp to burn.
“Captain,” Garam spoke, “there is no way we’re going to have a fire tonight. This wood has rotted completely through and is soaked with the dampness of this dungeon.” Lorik and Braden gave an audible sigh of disappointment, hoping for the warmth of a fire. Instead, they chose a small alcove in the southern wall, and nestled down for a cold meal and some rest. Aaron, holding one of the stones, examined their small accommodations to try and figure out a way of escape.
“Lorik,” Aaron said, “come and look at this.”
With a sigh the sergeant heaved himself up and went to Aaron who stood nearest to the eastern doorway, examining something on the ground, holding his dim light close to the floor to gain a better view. Lorik came up to his side. “What is it, Captain?”
“It’s these markings on the floor. I can’t quite make out what they mean. I need a tracker’s eye,” Aaron said as he pointed to several marks that were scratched in the dust.