The Bard, page 2
“Nobody blames you,” Nosmas said affectionately. “You had no way of knowing. Moving on, by the time I regained consciousness, we were alone. Father explained what had befallen me and what would happen to me every full moon. Between us we went through every spell, incantation and potion we knew about that could possibly be of any help and in the end decided to give one a try. It worked, kind of.”
He grimaced as he continued. “I no longer turned into a wolf each time the moon was at its fullest. Instead, the curse had been reversed. I was doomed to spend the rest of my life on four legs and covered in fur, only becoming human for one night each lunar cycle.”
“That explains Bellak’s strange behaviour each full moon,” Sam murmured, only to receive a number of questioning looks. “What? You didn’t notice?”
“Notice what?”
“Whenever the moon became large he became fidgety and unsettled, then he would go off to be alone with Samson.”
“She is right you know,” Seth confirmed. “Though until now, I had never noticed the pattern.”
“She is very observant,” Brin agreed before adding, “for a human.” He threw her a mischievous grin.
“Can I continue?” Nosmas asked, but did not wait for a reply. “Realising the only way to save me was to kill the werewolf who had bitten me, father decided to return to Tor and do everything he could to help him solve the clues, hoping to bump into Lycane again. He became obsessed with hunting for him.”
“We noticed,” Ria said dryly. “Why did he call you Samson?”
“He thought it rather fitting. The curse had been reversed so he decided reversing my name would be appropriate.”
“He always did have a strange sense of humour,” Vicky grumbled. “But why did he not come looking for me to explain everything?”
“You made it pretty clear that the only time you wanted to see him again was when he was lying in his grave. He knew you would not believe anything he said to you. His only hope was to cure me.”
“And it seems to have worked,” Tor commented.
“How do we know?” Sam interrupted before Nosmas could reply.
“Have you missed the fact that he is no longer a wolf?” Patrick said sarcastically.
“How do we know he will not change back at the next full moon?”
Silence filled the room. She had a good point and they all knew it.
“For my piece of mind, can we assume that I am cured for now please?” Nosmas looked at Vicky, who had gone pale. “What is wrong mother?”
“I have just realised that Bellak killed himself in order to save you. How can I have misjudged him so badly?” Silent tears flowed down her face.
“You are not the only one to have misjudged him,” Sam said quietly.
“He did treat you very poorly,” Tor said gently to her.
“Maybe,” Sam replied. “But I thought he was just concerned about winning. If I had known his real reason...”
“It would have made no difference,” Tor interrupted her. “There is no justifiable reason for his treatment of you. Now, it is late, I suggest we all try to get some sleep.” He turned his attention towards his hosts. “I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality. Where may we settle down for the night?”
Once again it was Yafen who responded. “This room is completely at your disposal, but we cannot offer you anything comfortable to sleep on I am afraid.” Tor assured him that that was not an issue; they were used to sleeping on the ground. Yafen continued. “You may leave whenever you wish, of course. The only thing we ask is that you do not enter any other building until the morning, when I will accompany you. No insult is intended, but we do not wish you near our females and children. I hope you understand.”
They all understood completely. If a group of skelks arrived at a human village, not only would they be kept away from the women and children, but they would probably have armed guards surrounding them at all times.
Once the skelks had departed, everyone selected an area of floor for themselves and were soon asleep. No guards were posted. They were staying inside the skelk camp. If they were going to be attacked, posting a guard would not make any difference to the outcome. Besides, the skelks had already displayed a great deal of trust and it seemed insulting not to offer them the same courtesy.
Sam awoke the next morning to the smell of freshly baked bread. She carefully moved Brin’s arm from around her, hoping not to wake him, and sat up. Half a dozen skelk had entered the building, some carrying a wooden tray piled high with slices of very dark bread and others pitchers of water.
“Breakfast,” Yafen announced, noticing that nearly everyone was awake. Once their burdens had been placed on the ground, four of the servers quickly departed, their unease at being close to the visitors evident in their manner. One who remained looked different from the others; its skin was dark grey rather than black and the hair that ran down from its head was pure white.
“Let me introduce you to my mother,” Yafen said.
“We are honoured to meet you,” Tor said, bowing towards the skelk, who made a sound much like a schoolgirl giggling.
“It was she,” Yafen continued, “who recommended we make this site our new home when we first chanced upon it and she has agreed to help you find what you seek.”
Tor gestured for the elderly skelk to sit down and, while they all ate, he explained why they were there and what they were looking for. “We know that the keep itself is in a nearby valley, but we have been led to believe that there is a secret passage leading from the watch-tower to the keep.”
“If it is here, my mother will find it,” Yafen assured the listeners. “She has an uncanny knack of finding hidden things.” His tone suggested that there were a few interesting stories behind that comment, but nobody was impolite enough to enquire.
“I know the location of what you seek.” The voice coming from Yafen’s mother was deep and powerful, contradicting her appearance. “Behind the stairs, where it is always dark, I found that part of the floor sounded different when I walked on it. I took a look through the stone floor and discovered a flight of stairs, leading downwards.”
“You looked through the stone?” Seth enquired, thinking he had misheard.
“Something I forgot to mention,” Yafen said, slightly abashed. “My mother has the ability to move through stone.”
Chapter 2
“No,” Sam almost shouted. “No way. You can count me out. There is no way in hell I am going down there.”
As soon as everyone had finished eating, they had headed out to the watch-tower, Yafen and his mother leading them. The watch-tower turned out to be just that; a large round tower containing only a set of stairs spiralling upwards, behind which they were guided. The elderly skelk knelt on the floor and proceeded to push her head through the stone flooring, causing Dal to turn away and retch loudly.
“It was bad enough watching Oak do that with wood,” he muttered, referring to a tree sprite who had a similar ability.
Tor handed a lit torch to Yafen’s mother, who, grasping it firmly in her bony hand, slowly pulled it through the stone. When she withdrew her arm, her hand was empty. She had thrown the burning torch down the steps, but they spiralled as they went downwards, only allowing her to see a little way. It had ceased providing light a long while before she stopped hearing it strike the stone steps as it fell.
A careful examination of the floor revealed that part of it was made from one large stone slab. All of the men, except for Nosmas, had their swords with them and, after much effort, they had managed to slide their blades under the slab and move it sufficiently for Modo to insert his fingers in the slight gap and peer down. Unable to see anything, he had quickly removed his hand and the slab had then been completely pushed away, revealing a set of uneven steps which descended into pitch darkness. It was Tor’s declaration that they should make as many torches as possible and head down the steps that had caused Sam’s outburst.
Brin wrapped his arm around her trembling body and drew her close to him. “It is alright,” he whispered softly in her ear. “I will not let anything happen to you. You will be perfectly safe.”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said, pulling away from him. “I freak out in enclosed spaces. I won’t be able to breathe down there.”
“We do not all need to go,” Tor said, remembering Sam’s reaction when Bellak had closed the lid on the coffin she had been sleeping in. He could not bring himself to ask her to go through that again. “You can remain here. Vitkin, Cirren and myself are the only ones who have to go, but I would appreciate Ellen and Nosmas joining us, if they are both up to it.”
After much debate, it was decided that only Brin and Vicky would remain behind with Sam. Tor almost banned Seth and Dal from descending the stairs, as they were showing far too much enthusiasm for his liking, but Patrick talked him round, reminding him how impetuous he had been as a young Prince.
“Vitkin,” Tor said, formally addressing his elder brother. “As the oldest, you have the right to demand leadership of our little group.” He had been in command of most of those present for a long time and only the slightest edge to his voice betrayed how unhappy he would be if he gave up his authority.
“Oh no little brother,” Vitkin replied. “Their loyalty is to you, not me. I am happy to follow your command. For now anyway.”
The skelk willingly provided food and water, as well as enough torches for all of the explorers, and before the sun was at its fullest, they were ready to go. Tor was about to start his descent when Patrick placed his arm in front of him.
“Do we have to go through this every time?” he asked in exasperation. “I am expendable, you are not. I go first.”
Predictably, Tor began to protest, but Patrick was already on the steps and walking down them before any words reached his ears. Though he walked quietly, the sound of his footsteps echoed eerily down the tunnel. “This is going to be fun,” he commented dryly before disappearing from view.
Ellen followed after him, holding her torch up high as she looked down at where she was placing her feet. “Be careful,” she advised those who were to follow her. “The steps feel slippery.”
Sam, Brin and Vicky watched anxiously as, one by one, each of their companions disappeared from sight. “What do we do now?” Vicky asked.
“Make our way back to the village I suppose,” came the reply.
As they continued their descent, the darkness formed tightly around them, their torches causing strange shadows on the walls. The eerie silence, broken only by their quiet footsteps, quickly became oppressive. “Is this ever going to end?” Dal complained, the excitement of exploring the darkness completely gone. “How long have we been down here?”
He received no reply. It was impossible to answer his questions. What felt like hours, may only have been a few minutes in the darkness. “And what is that awful smell?”
This time someone was able to answer his question. “The air,” Patrick said. “There is nothing to keep it moving this far down so it has gone stale.”
Dal gulped. “Does that mean it is bad?”
Patrick chuckled at the panic in the young man’s voice. “It is not good, but it will not kill us. At least we no longer have to put up with the smell of dog,” he added, raising his voice enough for it to carry to the back of the line.
“I heard that,” Nosmas’s deep voice called back.
Patrick had been looking behind him while talking and almost fell over when his foot struck level ground instead of the expected step. “We have reached the end of the steps,” he called out.
Appreciative comments were muttered. None of them were unfit, but continually stepping downwards was taking its toll on everyone’s leg muscles. “I vote we take a break when we reach Patrick,” Ellen called out. “We could all do with some water.”
“Good idea,” Tor confirmed, not that he really believed any of them were waiting for his permission. If Ellen said they needed to refresh themselves, they would all do so, regardless of anything Tor said.
“Does anyone have any idea where we are?” Seth enquired. Vitkin raised his torch and looked upwards.
“We appear to be in a tunnel. The roof seems damp so I would guess we are under a river or a stream. Does that help?”
“Not really,” Seth grumbled.
As they were no longer walking down twisting stairs, they decided to extinguish every other torch. They had no idea how long they would need them to last so it was prudent not to use them unnecessarily.
The path they were on, though obviously not natural, was rough and uneven, only allowing them to make slow progress. It sloped gently downwards and curved slightly to the right. They walked in silence; all of their energy was taken up by the concentration required to safely place one foot in front of the other. Ellen continued to dictate when to take breaks and for how long, though it was Dal tripping over his own feet that indicated it was time to get some sleep. Tor was not the only one frustrated at a prolonged delay, but Patrick’s suggestion that some of them continue onwards was not taken up. A watch rotation was decided on and all torches were extinguished. If something was going to attack them in the dark, the light would hinder rather than aid the defenders. Cirren, Ria, Dal and Seth were asleep almost as soon as their heads hit their backpacks, which they were using as pillows.
As expected, the ‘night’ passed uneventfully, though nobody felt refreshed when they headed off again. It was beginning to get cold in the tunnel, leaving everyone stiff and sore. They had not been walking long when the path began to incline steeply downwards. Already tired muscles burned as they used all their strength to edge slowly down without losing their footing. Patrick, who was still leading, came to an abrupt halt, causing Ellen to walk into him.
“What is it?” she asked, unable to see what had made him stop so suddenly.
“I am not sure,” he said uneasily. “It may be a pit of some kind, but it angles away instead of going straight down.”
“Can we get past it?”
“It is not wide enough to prevent us from jumping across it, but I am not sure if we are supposed to go down it or not. Get Tor down here,” he instructed.
Tor was soon standing beside them, examining the ‘pit’. “What are your thoughts?” he asked, holding his torch high above his head.
“It looks smooth enough to slide down,” Patrick said warily. “But we have no idea what is at the bottom.” He held his torch in front of him, lighting a small area of darkness the far side of the ‘pit’. “We also have no idea where the path will take us.”
“Ellen?”
“We may be down here for days if we continue walking at this rate, and I do not think the water will last that long.”
“Then we are going sliding,” Tor announced, removing his backpack.
“What do you think you are doing cousin?” Dal had crept up behind them and was looking down the ‘pit’. “You do not think you will be allowed to go first do you?”
“Volunteering?” Patrick asked sarcastically.
“You bet,” came the unexpected reply. “That looks like fun.”
Tor groaned. “Why did I allow children to come with me?”
“Be nice,” Dal replied, handing him his backpack. Before Tor could stop him, he had laid down on his back in the ‘pit’ and pushed off.
Instead of the expected screaming, sounds of excitement reached their ears. “This is fun,” Dal’s voice sounded from somewhere far below them. Seth had removed his backpack and was about to follow his friend down when Tor placed a warning hand on his shoulder.
“Wait till we know he is safe,” he told him sternly. Seth nodded. He began pacing up and down; the wait was agonizing.
“How much longer do we give him?” he asked for the seventh time, when a muffled sound was faintly heard echoing up from the pit. “Dal?” he screamed down, leaning as far down as he dared. “Are you alright?” Listening carefully, he could just make out the reply. Pulling himself upright, he addressed the assembled crowd. “He said we should send down his pack then join him. He also added that he has never had so much fun in his life.”
Nobody realised that they had been holding their breaths until they heard the loud exhalation. They all regarded Dal as family, though he was only really related to three of them, and concern for his safety was foremost in all their minds.
“Me next,” Seth said enthusiastically, throwing both his own and Dal’s packs down, watching them quickly disappear from sight. “Yippee,” he called out as he started his descent.
It lasted a lot longer than he had anticipated. The sensation of falling, and the rush of air past his face as he gained speed, made the trip more enjoyable than frightening. He was disappointed when he finally skidded to a stop in what appeared to be a large stone room. Dal immediately grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet and roughly embraced him. Seth returned the hug before the two young men, realising what they were doing, quickly jumped apart.
“That was fun,” Seth said, breaking the embarrassed silence. They were gratefully interrupted by the arrival of Nosmas.
“I thought it best not to leave you two alone,” he announced.
“Why?” Seth asked hurriedly. Nosmas just looked at him. “Oh yes. I forgot you used to be Samson. How much do you know?”
“Everything.”
“Oh.”
“There is nothing going on,” Dal said defensively.
Nosmas smiled at the young man. “You just keep telling yourself that,” he said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before whistling up to the others, indicating that he had successfully arrived.
One by one, the rest took their turn sliding down, though not everyone appeared to enjoy it. “If I never have to do that again I will die a happy woman,” Ellen announced as she dragged herself up onto her feet.
They decided to grab a quick bite to eat then everyone was handed a burning torch and the investigation of the room began. It was quickly established that they were in a store room, long abandoned. There was no evidence of fresh food and all of the jars on the shelves, or in the large wooden cupboards, were covered in dust. Nobody dared to open any to see what they contained. The only exit was through a small wooden door, which, though stiff, was unlocked.
