Knights of Aralia Book II: Evil Rising

Chapter VIII: Cave In!

Upon entering the cavern, the four knights could see a faint glow at the end of a passage to the left. Elagor took the lead, listening and watching carefully for any signs of the Aylar they knew were around. The peculiar sulfuric scent alone would be enough to indicate some fell creature nearby, even if they had not seen the Aylar before. Fortunately, they could discern no side passages or crevices along the way which might conceal foes waiting to ambush them. There was only this single, relatively straight tunnel, and they had to follow it.

Along the way, Fordain noticed several discoloured patches of some strange material on the walls. At first, he didn’t give them much heed, but then he caught the reflection of torchlight across one. Metal! Or rather, ore of some kind. And it had a purplish sheen!

So that’s the cause of our poisoned stream, they all realized at about the same time. Could that be what had brought the enemy up here?

But why would they come so far just to mine a few metals? Fordain wondered further.

As they came to the end of the corridor, Elagor looked quickly around the corner to check for the enemy. Since there was neither sight nor sound of him, they proceeded into a larger clearing, lit by a wall-mounted torch. Here they stopped for a moment.

“Which way now, do you suppose?” asked Elagor.

It was a hard choice, for there were no less than three adjoining tunnels leading off in various directions. The first, which was the brightest and widest, went straight for a short distance, then curved away to the right. The second was also fairly wide, though not as well lit, and appeared to take a steep dive just a couple of steps in. The third, which had but a single torch lighting its entrance, appeared to go on straight for as far as the light reached. And from somewhere off in its cold, damp depths came the steady drip of water seeping in through some fissure in the rocky ceiling. Carefully they looked over their choices, but could not make up their minds which one to take.

“What do you suggest?” Fordain replied.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Elagor, examining each tunnel in turn. “I’ve no great experience navigating caves. It seems to me the more well-lit path would be the most likely to lead us to Aylar, since it was doubtless they who put the torches there.”

“Sound reasoning.”

“However, that leaves us to determine whether the path they took is also a way out. And if not, which is?”

“I believe it must be the same,” stated Ingred. “How else could they have gotten up here without our meeting at some point?”

“I agree,” added Béragon.

“Very well,” said Fordain. “We have an hour if we’re wrong, so we’ve got time to...”

A tremendous roar came rolling up from the first passage, shaking the entire cavern. This was followed closely by a blast of warm air which nearly floored the Aralians. A chorus of cheering voices then sounded from down the same tunnel.

“What in the Arden’s name was that?” asked Béragon, momentarily forgetting how his voice carried in his surprise.

“I have no idea,” answered Elagor calmly. “But whatever it is, it sounds like the Aylar are well pleased by it.”

“If I did not know better, I’d liken it to the roar of a Flamewing,” added Ingred.

“It’s something devious, no doubt,” spoke Fordain, maintaining well his poise amid the excitement. “But at least it confirms that they took the first path. Which makes our way pretty clear.”

“What folly this is!” spoke Béragon openly, though remembering to keep his voice down. “You actually want us to seek out the source of that terrible noise?”

“How else are we supposed to discover what it is?” asked Fordain simply, undeterred by Béragon’s outburst.

“Fordain is right,” agreed Elagor. “Whatever this devilry may be, the enemy has something to do with it, and it is our duty to observe their movements as much as it is to deliver our message to King Thjógor. Who knows? What we discover here may prove vital to our cause at some point in the future.”

Béragon found it impossible to argue with such far-sighted logic, and as he was but one against three, he heaved a great sigh and followed them down the first tunnel. It was not a perfectly straight tunnel. For whatever reason, it made various jags from side to side, and the floor was incredibly uneven. Only the stream of voices floating back to them from the tunnel’s end remained steady. As they pressed on, the voices became gradually louder.

They were the rough voices of Aylar, and they were talking in Western Speech for the most part. With the echo it was impossible to make out precisely what they were talking about, though it was clearly something amusing, as the voices were loud with frequent bouts of laughter. Interspersed with these came voices clearer and calmer in their speech. They were Human voices, though why Humans of any sort would want to associate with Aylar was beyond the Aralians.

As they approached the end, the words became more distinct. Elagor crouched down behind a boulder just beside the entryway to the next chamber. From here, he and the others listened to the conversation.

“I’d say two more loads ought to do it,” spoke the first gruff voice.

“At this rate, we’ll be in Ralgar by tomorrow morning,” said a crackly voice excitedly.

“Clear the way and make room for the next one,” said the first. There was a sound of rocks shuffling, a few groans as heavier ones were lifted, and the scraping of metal tools against stone.

“Now, bring them up and prepare to light,” intervened a third voice with some sort of accent. It was one of the men.

Elagor dared to look around the corner. The adjacent chamber was quite spacious, and connected to another via a large entryway. Moving about within were several Aylar in various stages of dress, accompanied by four or five Cairagan soldiers. In addition to moving rocks about, one pair of Aylar hauled up a weighty cart full of spiny, round objects. Out of the side of one, Elagor fancied he saw a string dangling. He turned back to his companions.

“Well, that solves one mystery,” he said.

“What is it?” asked Ingred.

“Some sort of explosive devices. Masses of them.”

“Explosive devices?” Fordain looked at him quizzically.

“Metal casings filled with black powder that create a lot of fire and a loud noise like we just heard,” the Vildegraad explained. “My foster father used to speak of them. Very powerful. Very dangerous. They seem to be using them to blast through the rock walls of the cave.”

“What!” exclaimed Béragon in a hoarse whisper. “But that could bring the whole cave down, couldn’t it?”

Elagor nodded. “It could, but they don’t seem too terribly concerned about that.”

Suddenly there came a sound of rapid footsteps approaching from an adjoining chamber. Movement ceased.

“What is it?” inquired the gruff-voiced Ayla.

“We’ve had a collapse,” answered the runner, a Cairagan. “The last explosion trapped several of ours and killed a few others in one of the ore shafts. We’ve gotta’ dig ‘em out right away!”

“Where are they?” asked the Ayla in a tone of annoyance.

“In the back chamber, behind the wall.”

“Great! More work to do. Grab some boomers, and be quick about it!”

There was another bout of scuffling in the next room for a few minutes, at the end of which came silence. Elagor dared to look again and saw no one.

“They’ve gone,” he concluded.

He looked again, as did the other four to make sure he was right. The room was as still as a crypt.

“Come on! Let’s have a closer look,” said Fordain, making a move toward the chamber.

“You intend to go in there?” spoke Béragon.

“Why not?”

“What if they return? There are too many for us to take on at once.”

“I don’t want to do anything more than look, I assure you.”

“That’s what you said at Arrentum.”

Fordain flashed an irritated smirk. “Well, I mean it this time. But do let’s hurry up, lest your fear come true.”

“I’m not afraid!” muttered Béragon as they advanced.

The Aralians slipped quietly through the first, smaller chamber into the larger one beyond. The recently vacated cavern was full of all kinds of litter, from discarded weapons and belts to large piles of rocks and explosives.

“What a slovenly lot these Aylar are,” said Ingred.

“They are that,” concurred Béragon.

“But what are they doing here?” asked Fordain, approaching the wall so recently weakened.

“They said something about Ralgar, did they not?” replied Ingred.

“They did. And they’re clearly trying to dig a hole in the mountainside—very near the end of the range, as we figured it. Do you think it’s possible they intend to use this as a pathway for their forces to move into Ralgar from the rear?”

“They’ve been more active than we thought, if that’s the case,” said Béragon.

“Yes,” spoke Elagor. “It seems our worst fears are proven true, as are the rumours of a union with the Cairaga.”

“But entry to Ralgar from the west is only possible by way of the Hengatail River,” Ingred mused out loud. “If that’s the case, then they must have plans to take control of the very route we were hoping to use ourselves.”

“I’m afraid you may be right, sister,” said Béragon. “In which case, I suggest we get moving as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” said Fordain. “Obviously this isn’t the way through as we’d hoped. At least, not yet it isn’t.”

“Perhaps we ought to take one of these with us,” said Elagor, examining one of the explosive devices more closely.

“What ever for?” inquired Béragon.

“You never know,” replied Fordain, lifting one up. “It seems to me there are many potential uses for such a device.” He placed it in the pack that Béragon carried.

“Hold on! Why have I got to carry that thing?”

“Because I’ve got no room in mine. Now, let’s get out of here.”

Even as he said this, however, his eyes met those of a young Cairagan. Everyone paused where they stood, uncertain of what to do next. At the end of this brief pause, however, the dark-haired soldier turned and started off in the opposite direction, shouting, “Spies! Westerners!” Elagor, having the quickest reaction of them all, ran after him a few paces with his bow drawn taut. As the young fellow was about to disappear at the end of a tunnel, the Vildegraad loosed an arrow directly into his back beneath the neck. He staggered forward in surprise, slamming into the wall right ahead of him before falling to the floor with a final cry of agony.

“We’ve tarried too long,” said Elagor. “Let’s go!”

But they had no time to return the way they had come before three Aylar came running up from that direction. A clamour rang out from the other direction where the rest of the foes had gone as they came to find out what was going on. The Aralians drew their weapons.

“What now?” hissed Béragon as more materialized from the shadows and moved in from every side.

Fordain looked around quickly. The enemies had gathered at every conceivable point of exit from the chamber. They were effectively surrounded. Fordain then caught sight of the small cart of explosives near the rear of the chamber. Thinking quickly, or perhaps not at all, he grabbed one of the nearby torches and withdrew the explosive he had placed in Béragon’s pack. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, he proceeded to light the bomb and hold it aloft. The looks of the Aylar and Cairaga turned immediately from hostile curiosity to terror as they perceived his intention, and several started to back away. Fordain tossed the lit device into the cart, its fuse lighting another of its sort as it landed.

“Back off men!” shouted one of the Aylar, and without hesitation or any further care for what befell the intruders, the clustered troops dispersed like steam from a geyser in every direction. This eliminated the problem of the enemy forces, but left the Aralians with the much more pressing concern of the explosives right beside them. Fortunately the fuses were of a slow-burning variety in order to enable excavators to clear an area before setting off the powder.

“Have you lost your mind?” cried Béragon.

Fordain did not pause to answer, but along with Elagor, gave the cart a hearty shove toward the adjacent chamber, into which it rolled unobstructed with the aid of the slight downward slope of the floor. Taking no time to reflect, they then proceeded in the opposite direction down one of the side tunnels. They dropped down beside a large pair of boulders in a small chamber there and awaited what came next. Just as the cart touched the opposite wall of the central chamber, the fuse reached its base and a massive explosion shook the entire length of the cavern, knocking some fleeing soldiers flat. Flames jetted out through the adjacent tunnels, singeing the very rocks behind which the Aralians crouched. As the fire receded, however, the rumble continued, though it was not merely that of the explosion. A small rock from the ceiling then fell and struck Elagor in the arm. He gasped and drew it nearer.

“Cave in!” he cried as more rocks began to rain down around them.

Fordain then spotted the opening at the end of an adjoining tunnel. “Hurry!” he shouted, rising to lead the way. “To the exit!”

They ran as quickly as possible toward the arched doorway leading into the light of the world outside, dodging debris along the way. Several bigger boulders began to topple down and the walls themselves crumbled to some extent. They came closer and closer, and at last flew out of the doorway with Béragon taking the lead. Just as the last of the Aralians slipped out of the tunnel, an enormous hunk of ceiling crashed down right where they had but a second before stood, sealing off the cavern and all its passages entirely.

“Well,” said Elagor, wheezing a bit as he caught his breath, “that was interesting. Good thinking back there, Fordain.”

“Perhaps, though it’s left us with another predicament,” said Fordain. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light. “Where exactly are we?”

The others regarded their surroundings more closely. This was not the point at which they had entered. The snow was thinner, and there was no sign of the dead Aylar. What was more, their companions—and by extension their horses and provisions—were nowhere in sight. The path on which they now stood was completely unfamiliar to them.

“We’ve found the main road, it seems,” observed Elagor. “Or at least one leading in the right direction. Quite possibly the very route the Easterners used to get up here.”

“Well, that’s nice to know.” Béragon shook his head. “We could run into an entire army coming up the other way.”

“I doubt that,” said Fordain. “But we are here regardless, and since we can’t go back, we may as well move forward.”

“And what of our companions?” pressed Béragon, trying to remain calm despite his worry. “Our companions who carry most of our provisions and our mounts besides. How are they to find us? For all we know, we may have just blocked off the only route through the mountains on this side.”

“That’s not likely,” explained Elagor. “These mountains have many trails, as we have learnt well. I’m sure our companions will find a way through. In the meantime, though, I suggest we continue on as Fordain says. We cannot linger here.”

“No, we can’t,” concurred Fordain with an uplifting note seeping into his voice. “And as it turns out, that whole incident wasn’t a complete disaster.”

“How do you figure?” asked Béragon.

“Look over there!”

They turned in the direction he indicated. Some way down, but easily perceptible from the mountain road, was a large patch of misty green stretching as far as the eye could see.

“We’re very near the Forest of Armoron. If we follow this road, I think we should arrive there before sundown, and maybe come to the river’s edge by the day after tomorrow, if I remember Morgan’s map correctly.” He regarded Béragon. “If our friends find a way around, we’ll meet up with them there.”

“And if they don’t?”

Fordain sighed to contain himself. Truly Béragon’s attitude was starting to grate on him. But he understood his concern for his younger brother, and so replied calmly, “We will carry on, Béragon, whatever happens. I am confident that if at all possible, Morgan will get down from these mountains, probably before us if we dally here much longer.”

“And don’t worry overmuch about provisions, Béragon,” said Elagor. “If this place is at all like the forests to the south, there should be plants and game aplenty for a party of four. My past experiences have taught me a thing or two about such matters.”

“Besides,” added Fordain, looking back toward the sealed cave entrance, “this blockage here should keep the Aylar off of us for a while as well, assuming there aren’t any ahead.”

“Very well then,” said Béragon, shaking his head. “On we go.”

Elagor took point as they began their trek down the mountainside. Béragon paused to take one final look back at the sealed tunnel through which they had travelled before proceeding.

“The Forest of Armoron has long been considered a less civilized portion of Hengoroth,” spoke Ingred as they walked on. “It was even mentioned in one of the Drakonic legends, as I recall.”

“Really?” said Fordain. “Which legend was that?”

“The story of Armadus the Proud. He travelled alone into the forest seeking to make his fortune and a name for himself after a friend called him a coward.”

“What became of him?” asked Béragon, who, although from Hengoroth like Ingred, did not know the legends of the Draga as well as she.

“No one knows. He disappeared into its depths, never to emerge again.”

“Now that is comforting,” said Elagor. “Let’s hope our fortunes turn out just a little better.”