The Temple of Fate, page 18
part #5 of Bander Series




Chapter Thirty-Two
Bander was half asleep in the back of a wagon. A hay wagon. Bouncing along a country road.
Even as he experienced the reverie, he realized that it was a dream—one he had dreamt before.
His ten-year-old self was completely relaxed and at peace with the world. Through half-closed eyes he could glimpse a bright full moon hanging over the hills of Dalchester. The air was warm and the slight breeze felt good.
The clopping of the horses drowned out most of his parents hushed conversation, but he could tell that they were talking about him. He strained to make out their words, but couldn’t.
He never could. In all the times he had dreamt of this wagon ride, he was never able to understand what his parents were saying.
Eventually the swaying of the wagon lulled him back to sleep.
He tried to open his eyes, but one was crusted in blood. His shoulder hurt and his left kneecap felt like it had been ripped off. There was also a weight pressing on his chest. Not a heavy weight—like a stone block. But a much more manageable weight. He lifted his head and felt the weight upon him stir. It was Talessa Kreed.
“What happened…?” she murmured.
“I have no idea,” he said.
She didn’t move for several minutes, and Bander wasn’t about to kick her off his chest. That was never a polite thing to do to a beautiful woman. But eventually she realized her position and rolled off him with a demure, “Sorry.”
“Not a problem.”
“I have to say, you make a splendid shield. I am quite undamaged.”
“I wish I could say the same for myself.”
Although, in truth, he had been in worse shape. He rubbed the dried blood from his eye and felt at his scalp. The wound didn’t seem bad. No more than a scrape. But his shoulder and knee hurt like Dishlad’s nut.
He blinked and looked around. It was pitch black, but one of the magical torches lay nearby. From its light Bander could see that they were in some sort of narrow chasm with steep stone walls.
As she stood up, Talessa Kreed staggered unsteadily.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“The ground—” Her arms shot out as she tried to balance herself.
Bander lurched to his feet and felt the same thing she must have. The earth was soft and yielding. Like flesh.
“What is this?” she cried.
He caught her in his arms and helped her to a small rocky outcropping at the base of the cliff that loomed up over their heads.
“Let’s just stay here,” he said. “This rock is stable enough.”
Talessa Kreed nodded.
Bander examined himself. He was a little wobbly, but nothing seemed to be broken.
“Valthar! Sward!” he called.
There was no response.
“Do you see them?”
“No,” Talessa Kreed said.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’m getting that torch.”
He took a few steps on the soft ground. It was very strange. It felt like mud or a swamp, but there was no water. But with a little practice, he found that he was able to walk on the unusual surface—as long as he moved slowly.
Holding the torch high, Bander could see that they were some place enclosed by sheer rock walls that stretched up far over his head into the darkness.
“There, to your left!” Talessa Kreed cried. “It might be them.”
Bander limped over to where she pointed. There crumpled on the ground were the bodies of Valthar and Eton Sward. The mage was clearly dead, his neck broken from the fall, and his eyes open and bulging. Valthar had a serious gash on his head which oozed blood, but he appeared to be alive. Barely.
Talessa Kreed unsteadily made her way over to them. “Dynark’s blood! What happened?”
“They weren’t as lucky as we were. Especially Sward.”
Bander felt a stab of remorse about the mage’s death. He should have physically restrained Sward from getting too close to the trees. But he didn’t think that the mage would have been so foolish—especially after what had happened to Fenrue.
But now he had to concentrate on Valthar. His friend was in bad shape. Very bad shape.
Ripping his shirt to use as bandages, Bander quickly bound Valthar’s head wound and tried to wake him. But Valthar remained in a half-dead stupor.
“You don’t know any healing, do you?”
“Not a bit,” Talessa Kreed said. “Not one of my skills, I’m afraid.”
“Me neither. We need to get him out of here.”
“But how? I can’t even see to the top of these walls.”
“Stay with him. Keep pressure on the wound. I’ll look around.”
It didn’t take long for Bander to get a good sense of their surroundings. They were at the bottom of a large ring-shaped chasm with tall vertical stone walls on every side. The floor of the chasm was a hundred and fifty paces around and every step he took was on the unnaturally soft ground. In the center of the ring stood a narrow stone spire, a dozen feet thick—almost like a natural pillar. Something at the top of the spire glowed faintly—and that glow was at least twenty-five feet above Bander’s head. Probably more. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it must be magical.
The stone walls appeared to be natural and were nearly vertical. In some places they bowed outward a bit. Impossible to climb for most people—including him. He didn’t see any caves or passages or doors in the walls, although he would have to look closer. Likewise, the floor of the chasm was barren except for some small rocks and debris which had likely fallen from the cliffs over the years. Nearly all the ground was soft and fleshy except for a few rocky outcroppings along the perimeter.
Bander recovered Fenrue’s sword and the remaining torches. There was no sign of the spear or the two poles. Maybe they had been caught up in the trees. Or maybe he just missed them. He saw the rope and some smaller items still scattered around the far side of the chasm.
Bander brought everything over to Talessa Kreed and said, “I don’t know how much longer this light spell will last.”
She looked down at Valthar. “He’s dying, I’m afraid.”
Bander squatted down next to his friend and checked his pulse. Very weak. And his breathing was barely noticeable.
“Come on, Valthar,” he whispered. “You’ve seen worse.” But he wasn’t sure that was actually true.
“What will you do if he doesn’t make it? Your employer, I mean?”
“He’s not my employer. He’s my friend.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry—”
They sat in silence for several minutes. Bander’s mind raced through a million possibilities. Would they be trapped down here forever, or was there some way out? And even if he and Talessa Kreed could escape, could they get Valthar back to a healer in time?
“How long have you known him?” Talessa Kreed asked.
“Thirty years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yes, but sometimes we’d go years without speaking. Not intentionally, of course.” He trailed off.
“I have friends like that as well. With some people, the fires of friendship don’t need much tending.”
That was one way to look at it, but Bander wasn’t feeling very philosophical at the moment.
“Tell me why we’re really here,” Talessa Kreed said quietly.
Bander leaned back against the cool stone. “Valthar isn’t from this time.”
“What?”
“He’s from the year 729.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s what he believes.”
“And what do you believe?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He’s been collecting aonae and looking for an intact Nave.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s how he plans to return to his own time. The Nave is the door and the aona is the key.”
Talessa Kreed was silent.
Bander stared at the torches, trying to figure out when they would lose their light.
After a time, he asked “How are you at climbing?”
“I can climb a rigging like a monkey, of course, but I doubt I’d get very far on these rocks. You see how steep they are? And not much in the way of handholds.”
“I know.”
Best-case scenario, the top of the cliff was thirty feet from the bottom. Even if Talessa Kreed stood on his shoulders, she’d still need to somehow ascend another eighteen or nineteen feet in order to climb out of the chasm.
Nearly impossible. But they did have a rope…
He wasn’t sure exactly how long the rope was though. Twenty feet? Twenty-five? They’d also need to make a hook out of something. Her dagger, possibly.
They would have to start inventorying their possessions. Maybe—
His thoughts were interrupted by Talessa Kreed’s scream.
She jumped to her feet and stumbled backwards, pointing at Eton Sward’s body.
A host of strange worms had erupted from the ground and rapidly swarmed around the mage’s corpse. Each worm was bone-white and as thick around as the Bander’s thumb. With lightning speed their bloated pinkish maws fixed on Eton Sward’s flesh like leeches.
Bander’s first instinct was to try to grab the mage’s body and move it away from the swarm, but he feared that the worms might turn to Valthar. Instead, he snatched up his friend and called to Talessa Kreed.
“To me!”
With Valthar cradled in his arms, Bander dashed away from the worms to a stone outcropping at the base of the cliff a few dozen feet away.
“What are those things?” Talessa Kreed gasped.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Bander carefully set Valthar down upon the outcropping then took off his cloak, bunched it up, and placed it under Valthar’s head. He wanted to keep his friend’s head somewhat elevated.
“We have a lot of large insects here, but I’ve never seen anything like that,” Talessa Kreed said.
“Some sort of cave worm, I imagine. Scavengers. That’s why this area is so clean.”
“They were so fast.”
“Stay here and call out if you see any come close. I’m going to gather the rest of our supplies.”
As he drew closer to Eton Sward’s body, he was amazed at how many worms were on it. The mage’s corpse undulated with their presence. He gave it a wide berth as he collected the rope, a few bags, and other possessions that had been scattered around the ground. There was still no sign of the spear or poles though.
Back at the outcropping, he proceeded to lay everything out on any horizontal surface he could find that was off the ground.
“My bag!” Talessa Kreed said.
He handed it to her. “Yes, it appears that everything is down here except the poles and spear.”
It turned out that there wasn’t much of use in her satchel. Some maps, a journal book, her spyglass, a compass, a wax tablet and stylus, a tinderbox, some stale biscuits, and old jerky.
“No grappling hook tucked away in there?” Bander asked.
“Not with me. All sorts of hooks and poles back on The Calibis.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“Sorry.”
There wasn’t anything immediately useful in the other bags either. More books, some food and water, gold, and gems.
The books might be useful as fuel for a fire. The food and water might last them a few days.
“One of the torches just went out,” Talessa Kreed announced.
Bander picked it up, but didn’t say anything.
“Will the rest of them go any minute?”
“It’s not that precise, but soon,” Bander said. He picked up two of the remaining torches and left one illuminating Valthar. “We need to get a better look at these walls.”
“How?”
“You stand near the center pillar and I’ll stand near the wall.”
“Aye.”
“Just watch where you are walking.”
She moved to the center of the chasm while Bander stood right up against the outer wall. He held torches in each hand and stretched one up over his head.
“See the light? That’s about eleven feet.”
“Marked.”
“I’m going to toss the second torch straight up. I want you to do two things.”
“Yes?”
“First, try to get a sense where the top of the wall is. Use the stationary torch as a reference.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Also, be on the lookout for anything on the wall.”
“Like what?”
“Anything other than a flat surface. Roots. Outcroppings. A cave. Anything.”
“I can do that.”
“We’ll go around the entire wall. Ten feet at a time.”
“Or until the torches go out, right?”
“Yes.”
It took them well over an hour, but the torches still burned their magical light. As best as Talessa Kreed could judge, the top of the chasm wall was a more than twice the height of the stationery torch. Bander guessed the wall’s height to be between thirty and thirty-five feet off the ground. Pretty much what he had observed himself.
The wall was generally smooth all the way around. Talessa Kreed hadn’t seen any outcroppings or depressions—and certainly no protruding roots. But she had seen the shadowy forms of stone trees right near the top edge of the wall. Those might be their best bet for throwing a rope around. Unfortunately that might add another five or six feet to the length of rope they needed to get out of here.
“Good work,” he told her.
As they returned to the outcropping to check on Valthar, they saw what was left of Eton Sward’s body. It wasn’t much. The worms had devoured his flesh and all his clothes. All that was left was the mage’s skeleton and a few bits of metal: a ring, a belt buckle, a clasp.
They found Valthar still unconscious and he didn’t respond when Bander tried to rouse him.
“You think those trees have anything to do with the worms that ate Eton Sward?” Talessa Kreed asked.
“I doubt it. Those trees are some sort of guardian statues. Magical. They animated when Sward got too close. He should have known better.”
“You’re rather matter-of-fact about it, aren’t you?”
“I’ve seen it a lot,” Bander said.
“Magical tree statues?”
“No, the trees are a new one to me. But I’ve seen plenty of guardian statues. It actually means that we’re on the right track.”
“What do you mean?”
“Things that aren’t valuable aren’t guarded like this. We’re close to something important.”
He stretched the rope out and paced it off. Twenty-one feet. Not long enough by itself. They still needed another eight to ten feet of rope. Maybe more. He looked over at Talessa Kreed’s satchel. The strap would help. So would his belt. And Valthar’s.
“Stand up, please,” he told Talessa Kreed.
She raised one eyebrow at him, but complied.
“Arms up. I’m going to lift you.”
“You mean to toss me to the top?”
“No. Just checking your weight.”
“A bit rude.” But she smiled.
He gripped her body underneath her arms and hefted her up. Then gently set her back down.
“You’re a strong one, aren’t you? Did I pass muster?”
“About what I expected. I think if we braid some of the cloth, we should be okay. We’re going to need at least ten more feet to add to the rope. That doesn’t include knots.”
“And then what?”
“And then we—”
A voice interrupted him. “Hello, down there!”
It was a voice Bander recognized.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I heard you talking,” the voice said. “No need to pretend. We know you are down there.”
It was Mortam Rowe.
Bander would never forget the man’s voice. But how was he even alive—and how did he get here?
The end of a rope cascaded down. Bander just stared at it, mind reeling.
“Come now, Mr. Grannt. You and your associates are in no position to turn your noses up at some assistance, are you?”
“You know him?” Talessa Kreed whispered.
“Just follow my lead.”
Bander stepped away from the wall and looked up. A figure holding a lantern stood at the top of the chasm.
“We have an injured man. I won’t leave him.”
“How injured?”
“He’s unconscious.”
“Tie a rope around him. We’ll pull him up.”
Bander considered this. He didn’t want to let Valthar out of his sight.
“The woman’s coming up first,” he called.
“Very well.”
“Who are they?” Talessa Kreed asked in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know exactly, but they are very dangerous. Especially the one called Keave. Just go up there and try to alert me if they try anything. And if I tell you to run, run back to the entrance. Hopefully, the shaft will still be open.”
She nodded.
“And don’t forget this.” He handed over her dagger. “You might need to use it.”
Bander held the bottom of the rope and watched Talessa Kreed clamber up it. Not quite as agile as a monkey, but pretty close.
“I’m up!” she called.
Bander then carefully looped the rope around Valthar’s arms and torso, padding it with his cloak. He checked the knots and then added a few more loops for safety. When he was done, he called out. “Lift him slowly and watch his head!”
He hefted Valthar’s body up and felt the slack of the rope tighten and his friend’s body lift and move slowly up. Bander stood below Valthar the whole time it took to raise the unconscious man. Luckily, the rope held.
“He’s safe!” Talessa Kreed called.
“And now, Master Sward?” Mortam Rowe asked.
“He didn’t make it. Just me.”
“My condolences, sir.”
Bander didn’t say anything.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Mr. Grannt? You don’t need us to haul you up, do you?”