Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity (29 page)

Your Loyal Servant

"There you have it!" growled Furlus. "The evidence we sought! Justice shall come of this, my friends."

"And yet it fails to mention Kealin or Moten," said Taris.

"It is Moten's writing," said Furlus. "I can tell Olrog handwriting, and Moten has a very unique style. And we can have this examined by a Scribe and a comparison made. Moten shall be found guilty. I have no doubt of it. We may find evidence down here against Kealin too."

"Hopefully not as well guarded," said Shennen. "How could that scroll have ended up down there?"

"The Jackal must have taken a wrong turn or something," said Taris. "Regardless, it is very fortunate for us that it met its doom. Now at least one corrupt member of the High Council will earn his rightful place in Dremlock Dungeon."

"I want to go confront him myself," said Furlus. "But first we need to finish our mission down here. Yet I can hardly wait to face him! And though he will undoubtedly spend his years in the dungeon, being treated humanely, I have a better punishment in mind."

"And what is that?" said Taris.

"We should toss him down there," said Furlus, nodding to the trapdoor. "Let one fiend prey upon another. That would be true justice."

Taris frowned. "And yet you should bear in mind how your people once administered punishments like that."

Furlus sighed and nodded. "It is true. But nevertheless, if anyone deserves to be fed to an oversized Worm, it is Moten."

"The Worm..." Taris pondered. "That was a creature of extraordinary power, and I hope never to encounter it again."

"It may have been leftover from the Great War," said Furlus. "It probably fled into these mines to escape Olzet Ka and the Crimson Flamestone."

"As for that scroll," said Taris, "perhaps we should take it to Cordus before we continue on. If we meet a bad end down here, the scroll might vanish with us, and justice would not be served."

Furlus put the scroll back in its case and stowed it away in his backpack. "Like I said, I want to confront Moten myself. And we can afford no more delays. The Goblin Lord and the assassin are escaping even as we speak."

Taris said nothing, seeing the determined look on Furlus' face and perhaps knowing it was useless to argue with a stubborn Dwarf.

Chapter 17:
 
Into the Depths

They cautiously proceeded past the iron door and along another tunnel. It turned a corner and began to slope downward, and they soon encountered a tangle of black roots that had been chopped through. The roots grew out of cracks in the stone walls, and ceiling, and the tunnel floor was stained dark with blood from them.

"The Iracus roots grow thick here," said Furlus. "There is a huge den of Black Mothers down this way. The Mothers have been sealed off, but their roots still creep all over through the stone, splitting it and sometimes causing cave-ins."

"You know this area?" said Taris, in amazement.

"Of course I do," said Furlus. "I've never been here in person, but there are stacks of old books down by the Deep Forge, some of which have these areas mapped out in great detail. I've studied them thoroughly."

"Yet haven't you claimed on many occasions," mused Taris, "that I spend too much time with my books?"

Furlus ignored this, and concentrated on leading the company down the long, sloping course. Eventually it leveled off and they emerged into a round chamber. At the center of the room was the opening of a mineshaft, about fifteen-feet wide, with old wooden planks partially covering it. Lying off to one side were old mining tools, piles of rotten rope, buckets, and some sort of badly rusted device that stood about nine feet tall and displayed many gears, levers, and wheels, with piles of thick chain at the foot of it. Furlus gazed at that last device with pride shining in his grey eyes.

"What is that thing?" said Taris.

"It was called a God Arm," said Furlus. "It helped pull Glaetherin ore up the mineshaft. It could drag tons of it up with no difficulty. If that doesn't represent Olrog ingenuity, I don't know what does."

Taris nodded. "The Olrogs are amazing inventors."

Furlus went to the edge of the shaft and knelt, holding his lantern over the hole. "It looks like someone carved a ladder right into the stone, but we'll use our ropes just to be on the safe side. Now, who wants to get lowered down first?"

Caldrek stepped forward. Furlus tied his rope around Caldrek and lowered him over the edge. Shennen and Saranna held the rope's end, adding extra support, while the wolf stayed alert to danger. Caldrek said nothing as he was being lowered. But at last the rope went slack, and his whisper arose from the pit.

"As far as I can tell, it's safe to come down."

"How deep is it?" Furlus asked.

"At least forty feet," said Caldrek. "But that is merely a crude guess. Regardless, a fall could be fatal, so be careful!"

"I better go next," said Furlus, "since I'm the heaviest and it will probably take all of you to lower me down."

One by one the others (including Darius) were lowered in, until all of them except Shennen stood on the stone floor below. They were in a large chamber with a low ceiling, its walls hidden in shadow beyond their lantern light.
 
From where the mineshaft (and the stone ladder) ended eight feet above them, an iron ladder hung down to the floor.

Aldreya glanced upward. "What about Shennen?"

"Stand aside," came Shennen's whisper. "I'm climbing down. I don't want anyone under me in case I slip."

Moments later, Shennen's lean form descended into the light. He was moving swiftly down the rope. When he reached the chamber floor, he readied his weapon. Shennen had fastened the rope to something above, and it continued to hang down, offering a second means of climbing up in case a swift escape was needed.

Shennen nodded. "Let the wolf lead the way."

"Darius is already on it," said Saranna, pointing to where the wolf was crouched at the edge of the lantern light, his nose pressed to the floor.

They followed Darius, passing huge mining carts and buckets, piles of ore that glittered silver, and heaps of rusted pickaxes. The gloom hung thick in the air here, the feeling of doom and despair and of being closed in. They could feel the countless tons of rock bearing down on them, and they could only imagine what the miners must have dealt with spending endless days and nights in this place. Yet the miners had been Olrogs, stout of heart like Furlus. They had chosen to devote their lives to the mines, and in grim proof of that, Olrog bones and skulls were strewn here and there.

Furlus bowed his head in respect. "They fought to the last to defend what was theirs," he said. "But the Deep Shadow was too strong."

Suddenly Timlin stopped. He was breathing heavily, his eyes darting into the shadows. He avoided looking at the others.

"What's wrong, Timlin?" said Lannon.

"I'm afraid," Timlin said, his face reddening. "This reminds me of the last time we were down here. I don't want to go any farther."

"Timlin!" Vorden sighed disgustedly. "What's the matter with you? We have Knights with us this time, and a Ranger. It's not like before, when it was just us. Now quit being such a weakling and get moving."

Aldreya shook her head in confusion. "Look at what we just went through down in those tombs. You were brave enough then. I can't understand you, Timlin."

"It's different now," Timlin whispered. "We're closer to..." He closed his mouth, and shook his head.

Shennen placed his hand on Timlin's shoulder. "Fear is not always a bad thing. It can help keep you alert. But it is important to stay focused. Do you really want to go back, and leave Lannon with no means to summon his Eye of Divinity?"

Timlin shook his head. "I just feel afraid."

"We will protect you," said Shennen.

"If you
can
," said Timlin, looking at the floor.

"The boy has a point," said Furlus. "We may not be able to protect him. In fact, that Worm was nearly too much for us, and that certainly might not be the worst creature lurking in the mines. He could die down here."

"Furlus, what are you trying to do?" said Caldrek, raising his eyebrows. "We should be trying to comfort the lad."

"I'm just being truthful," said Furlus. "If he goes any farther, he could be killed. After all, we don't know what's down here. So if you want to turn back, Timlin, you can, and the rest of us will too. And then we won't know what's in these mines, or whether Dremlock could be attacked from below. The choice is yours. Furlus Goblincrusher is no slave driver. If you want to go back, say so now."

Timlin was quiet for a moment. Then he whispered, "I'll keep going, I guess. I don't want to ruin things for everyone."

Saranna stepped next to Timlin and smiled at him. "I'll stay close to you, Timlin. If anything attacks us, we'll face it together."

"Don't worry about me," said Timlin. "I just don't like the mines, because they remind me of something."

"What do they remind you of?" Saranna asked, touching his shoulder. Timlin flinched away from her.

Timlin's voice grew bitter. "Never mind. Just something that happened once when I was younger. It's not important." He held up his flayer, a gleam in his eyes. "But I feel better now, and I'm ready to find that Tenneth Bard fellow. He tried to kill Lannon, and he needs to pay. So let's get going."

Saranna gazed at Timlin with uncertainty. She seemed about to ask him something more, but Timlin had already started forward, a small and silent shadow, his flayer held ready.

Lannon watched Saranna, impressed with her kindness and courage (and even more impressed with her beauty). Despite his fears, and his need to stay alert, he found himself glancing her way more often than he should have.

After a time, the chamber floor became covered in silver dust, and they could make out boot prints in it. The tracks led them into a tunnel blocked by an iron door that was locked. The Knights studied the lock, and came to the conclusion that Lannon would have to use the Eye. But Timlin begged to be allowed to try picking it, and so he was given a set of tools.

"Give it a quick try," said Furlus. "But this lock is very stout."

"You can do this, Timlin," said Shennen. "If you stay focused and let nothing distract your mind, the lock will succumb to your will."

Timlin went to work, his tiny fingers moving skillfully, his face set in a determined look. Just when the others were beginning to grow impatient, a click arose. Timlin backed away, grinning. "I got it!" he said.

"Well done," said Shennen, patting him on the back. "Amazing, really. I myself would have struggled with it. Your Knightly essence must be very strong. And those tiny, quick fingers you have are a bonus."

The Squires were instructed to stand behind the four men, with Saranna and Darius guarding the rear. While Taris and Furlus readied their weapons, Caldrek yanked the door open--to reveal a short hallway that ended at another door. The floor of this hallway was strewn with loose boards and rusty spikes.

Caldrek and Taris started forward, but Furlus ordered them to stop. "Hold on, now. Don't be wandering off without knowing what you're getting into."

"What's wrong?" said Taris.

Furlus pointed to the debris in the passageway. "Doesn't that look a little out of place to you?"

"It looks like loose boards and spikes," said Taris. "There is a lot of debris down here. What's different about this?"

Caldrek shook his head. "Even I cannot glimpse what Furlus sees."

"I see it," said Shennen. "Those boards may have been put there deliberately. They look a bit
too
randomly placed. See how none of them overlap? This could be a trap of some sort."

Furlus held forth a lantern, studying the tunnel. "The walls and ceiling look okay. The trap, if it exists, must be under the boards themselves." He frowned. "I guess I'll go first. You others wait for me. I have a suspicion..."

The Olrog carefully stepped along the tunnel, avoiding the loose boards. When he drew close to two of them lying side by side, near the tunnel's end, he sat his lantern down and raised his axe. The others could hear his raspy breathing as he cautiously stepped towards the two planks.

Then the planks exploded into the air and a dark, serpent-like shape surged out of a hole in the stone floor. The others caught a glimpse of a humanoid head, its reddish mouth split wide to reveal dripping fangs. Yet the instant that head popped up from the hole, Furlus' swung his axe and severed it from its body. The head rolled away, while the body writhed about, oozing dark fluid, until it lay still.

Furlus tore off a piece off his clothing and cleaned his axe with it. "Alright," he said, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's safe now."

Exchanging glances, the others started forward. When they reached the edge of the hole, they could see that the Pit Crawler had been chained down there, leaving just enough slack so it could rise up and bite anyone it smelled approaching its lair. Animal bones (and human ones) lay in the pit, gnawed clean of flesh--food to insure the creature's poison stayed potent.

"Whoever set these traps," said Furlus, "wields some kind of power over Goblins. Otherwise his own snares would doom him. And he must be thoroughly evil to use a Pit Crawler to do his dirty work."

"I think we'd already guessed he's evil," said Taris

Lannon glanced at the severed head. It bore a human expression, its eyes widened in shock. He turned away, wishing he hadn't looked.

They examined the door at the tunnel's end. It was made of iron, had a lock similar to the one Timlin had just picked, and runes were engraved in it. Taris studied the runes, while Furlus examined the lock.

"Writings of the Deep Shadow," Taris concluded.

"But what does it mean?" said Furlus.

Taris shook his head. "Only a sorcerer who gains his power from Tharnin could perhaps understand this."

With Shennen's encouragement, Timlin eagerly set to work and soon had the door unlocked. Taris pulled it open, and another hallway was revealed, ending this time in a lighted chamber up ahead.

They crept forward with extra caution, Taris and Furlus in the lead. Soon they emerged into a round chamber lit by Birlote torches. Another tunnel mouth stood on the opposite side of this room. Wooden tables and chairs stood in the chamber, and shelves lined the walls. Jugs and bottles, some broken and some intact, sat upon the shelves, along with other items such as candles, writing utensils, books, and so forth. Also, on one of the tables lay a Goblin Lord's corpse. It was chained down, and it had been sliced open to reveal the innards of its chest and stomach. Its eyes were open wide in death.