The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 4

Three large horses burst into the clearing and came to a standstill opposite the trio, tossing their heads. Coinin gently stroked the nose of the brown mare meant for him and cooed to her. He felt he owed her a new respect after becoming one of the beasts for a short time earlier that day.

  Trenobin nodded his head with approval. ‘Boys, there are harnesses on the wall inside the hut.’

  A couple of minutes later all three were ready to go.

  As they rode through the forest, the trees started to become more enclosed and made them feel claustrophobic. The very air seemed stale, and as they rode deeper, Coinin glimpsed flashes of war, battles, and death. This shook him, and he struggled to force the images from his mind.

  ‘Trenobin, I sense there were great battles here in the forest,’ he said after a time.

  ‘That is not strictly true; most of the forest grew after the last great war. I was in that battle, and many of my closest friends lost their lives here.’

  ‘Impossible,’ Marrok objected.

  Trenobin laughed. ‘Have you ever met a dwarf before, young Marrok?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then you have no idea how long we live?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Then until you do, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and your ears open.’

  Marrok made a rude noise and looked sullen.

  ‘Exactly how old are you Trenobin?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘Ah, well, I lost count after nine hundred years,’ Trenobin replied.

  Coinin looked at him in awe, altogether unsure if he should believe him.

  ‘The Elves, however, can live three times as long,’ Trenobin mused.

  As they rode on, the night grew cold and dark, and this made it harder to see. Trenobin acknowledged this and stopped to fumble in his pack for a second, and immediately there was a strange shift in the air that made the boys momentarily lightheaded. The space around Trenobin began to glow and lit the way as they rode.

  They travelled for several hours, and then Trenobin called a rest.

  ‘Thank you, Trenobin, my behind feels like it’s fallen off.’ Coinin winced as he dismounted. He rubbed his sore behind and stretched the kinks out of his body.

  ‘You’ll get used to it young sir,’ said Trenobin, and clapped a dirty hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t get used to the rest, though, we must make haste. It grows light, and our destination looms.’

  ‘Where exactly are we headed?’ Marrok asked.

  ‘Beyond this thicket is a cliff at the side of Mount Rostha. High up this cliff is a cave and inside is—well, it’s hard to explain, and perhaps it is better if you see for yourself.’ Trenobin instructed the boys to follow him without their horses. He and the boys undid their saddles and laid them against a tree. Trenobin then gently slapped the rump of his horse, and this made it trot off. The boys followed suit.

  ‘Don’t worry, they’ll find their way home.’ Trenobin winked.

  Marrok immediately understood the lack of horses as he fought his way through a particularly nasty thicket. His clothing and his bare arms were constantly under attack from sharp thorns and stings, and the horses would never have been able to make any sort of headway. He noted Trenobin did not seem to have the same trouble as he glided effortlessly through the fronds of plant life. Marrok unsheathed his father’s sword and hacked a path, which Coinin followed closely, as it seemed the moment they passed the thicket it grew together again, thicker than ever. Jip, the wolfhound, seemed to have the most trouble. His thick fur became entangled in the undergrowth, to the point that Coinin had to cut him free and Marrok had to carry him the rest of the way.

  ‘Stay close to me, boys; this place has a mind of its own,’ Trenobin called over his shoulder.

  ‘You can say that again,’ Coinin muttered, as he fought off a particularly vicious plant.

  A few minutes later the trio exited the thicket, to Marrok’s relief; he had not been able to use his sword while he carried Jip and was left to use brute force to push his way through the undergrowth, and he now bled from dozens of thorn cuts. He dropped Jip to the ground and stretched his sore back.

  The boys gazed in wonder at a sheer cliff face before them. No matter how far they strained their necks, the top could not be seen before it disappeared into a misty cloud. A waterfall cascaded down it from some unknown point far above and crashed into a pool below. The river then wound its way back through the thicket.

  ‘To go up, we go this way,’ said Trenobin confidently, and strode ahead. ‘Unfortunately, the dog must stay. It would be impossible for him to follow.’

  ‘Now hold on, Trenobin. First, you lead us a merry way, half kill us through the thorns of hell, and now you expect us to climb that, and fall to our deaths as likely as not?’ Marrok stood fast.

  ‘And leave Jip behind,’ Coinin added.

  Trenobin turned and smiled. ‘Of course, I expect you to follow.’

  ‘Well, I think our little quest ends here, Trenobin,’ Marrok said. ‘I’m not following you up there.’

  ‘You knew the cliff would be the stumbling block and yet you fail to allow me to accompany them,’ said a familiar voice. A moment later, a figure stepped out of the shadow of the cliff.

  ‘Uncle Draken?’ Coinin gasped.

  ‘Why did you let me drink so much, Trenobin?’

  Trenobin appeared momentarily shamed. ‘Draken, you cannot come, the guardians forbade it.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I will accompany you,’ Draken said. ‘Boys, a new life of discovery begins here. Your path has been foretold, and your destiny lies ahead. You are about to begin a journey of enlightenment, and I wish to be a part of that jaunt.’

  ‘Enlightenment?’ said Coinin and turned to his brother, excited. ‘We have a chance to see or do something other than sharing our lives with Uncle. We should go with him. I need to know more.’

  Marrok looked torn and then resigned. ‘If Father wanted this, then so be it. I vowed years ago to protect you, brother, so I guess I’m going too.’

  ‘Again, I say Draken cannot join us,’ Trenobin reminded them.

  ‘Then we don’t go either. Uncle Draken joins us, or we turn back now,’ Coinin warned.

  Trenobin clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. ‘Fine, this way then,’ he said sullenly. ‘If the Curator did not need to speak with you so urgently, I would turn around myself and head home.’

  ‘The Curator? Who is that?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘All in good time. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.’

  ‘Fine, keep your secrets, but what about Jip?’ Marrok asked.

  ‘As I said, he cannot come. Perhaps there is somewhere he can go?’

  ‘There is a place where they will take care of him, Coinin. Lambic from Relton quite likes the dog, he will do well there,’ said Draken.

  Coinin was deeply unhappy at the thought of leaving Jip behind though understood the animal could not go with them, and so conceded. He hugged the dog tightly and kissed him on the nose. ‘Go to Lambic, find Lambic, boy,’ he said in a high playful voice.

  Jip gave a deep woof and licked Coinin’s face, and then headed off into the undergrowth without a second glance.

  ‘I guess he’s tired of travelling with us,’ said Marrok, wrapping his arm around Coinin.

  ‘He’ll be fine, won’t he?’

  ‘Overfed, most likely,’ said Draken. ‘Lambic enjoys his ratting ability, and no doubt will reward him well. I presume the next time we see him he’ll be rolling home.’

  Coinin gave a brave smile and fended off Marrok who had decided to ruffle his hair.

  ‘If we are ready, this way if you don’t mind,’ said Trenobin in a bored voice, an arm outstretched to indicate the path.

  He led the group to a large boulder that jutted out from the cliff face directly beneath the waterfall and located a small hole at its base, into which he inserted his hand. A moment later the boulder swung aside, and he disappeared behind it. Coinin was next to round the rock and was greeted by an ast
onishing sight. Hidden in the cliff face, a set of roughly hewn steps wound their way up the cliff side. Only from this one position would the steps be visible. The waterfall hid its secret well.

  The boulder swung closed to protect its secret once more, and Trenobin led the way up. He reminded them to be careful as the spray from the waterfall made the steps slippery. They climbed cautiously for more than two hours without rest. Their hands were cold, wet, and numb, and they were barely able to grip the rock, yet they soldiered on.

  ‘Is it much further?’ Coinin puffed.

  ‘We are almost there,’ Trenobin called from above.

  Several minutes later Coinin collapsed on a shelf that jutted out from the cliff. Below, low clouds drifted slowly westward, and the whole of Rosthagaar could be seen clear to the lands of Madorine and Lushan with the open sea beyond. A twin peaked volcano smoked at the heart of Mador, and the boys were awed by the sheer size of the city of Rostha laid out before them. Marrok arrived next and looked fresh as a daisy with a huge smile on his face.

  ‘That was fun,’ he said and turned to offer a hand to his uncle who sweated profusely and was considerably red in the face.

  ‘Boys, grab my pack and bring us water and vitals. We still have some way to go,’ Trenobin gasped through breaths.

  The small group rubbed life into sore feet and hands and then ate salted beef in silence as they admired the view. The downside of being so high up was that they had to wrap up in cloaks to keep warm from the strong winds. They also had to keep dry from the waterfall spray.

  The meal was eaten, the boys curled up and slept soundly, warmed by a fire that Trenobin had started. Where he had obtained the firewood, the boys did not know or care, for they slept.

  ❖

  A ferocious storm lashed rain down the mountainside and cascaded into the citadel below. Thunder shook the foundations and struck fear into the hearts of young and old alike as they cowered in their beds. Lightning flashed across the sky and lit the castle towers within.

  Such a storm had not been seen for hundreds of years, and many feared it was a bad omen. The wind blew dark clouds across the sky, scudding across momentary glimpses of a full moon. All around, debris flew so violently that no one but the most foolhardy ventured outside. A flagpole lay broken, its standard in tatters. Horses kicked at their stables in terror, eyes wide and mouths frothed, while stable-hands dodged kicks in a futile attempt to calm them.

  Atop the castle walls, sentries found it near impossible to hold on to the ramparts. The wind and rain blurred their vision, and their cloaks flapped wildly.

  At the entrance to the castle, two shadowy figures observed the chaos. The interior of the smaller companion’s hood began to glow with a golden hue, obscuring his face. Wolf-like eyes shone brightly and illuminated the ground around him.

  His hands extended and his fists formed claws. The castle’s portcullis gates began to vibrate noisily and slowly bent inward to his will until they shattered in a blast of air. The remainder of the gates lay in ruins, and the edges glowed softly as would a sword in a blacksmith’s forge.

  The pair moved forward into the portcullis and heat radiated from the remains of the gates. A flash of lightning momentarily lit the features of the taller figure and glinted off the hilt of a sword.

  ‘Are you ready, brother?’

  ‘Yes.’

  A sword rose and motioned forward. The two figures ran into the castle followed by bloodthirsty roars as a horde of armour-clad warriors piled into the courtyard.

  ❖

  Coinin sat up with a start, his heart thumping and his brow beaded with sweat. His dreams had taken a new turn, and they had again progressed beyond the recurring theme. He looked about him and saw his uncle by the light of the dying embers from the fire. Draken hastily hid a glowing object from sight.

  ‘Go to sleep, boy,’ Draken hissed, his eyes hard. ‘We have quite a journey ahead of us.’

  Coinin lay down and closed his eyes and listened to his uncle’s movements. Why was he so secretive? He mulled over what he had seen and once more sleep overtook him.

  Morning arrived and with it a warming sun. Trenobin was already awake and had prepared breakfast. Coinin awoke to the smell of food; he nudged his brother and gratefully received a plate from the dwarf, which he bolted down. Breakfast did not take long to finish, not with two growing boys to hand, so Trenobin gathered the small group for instruction.

  ‘Now listen carefully, all of you. We shall head into there.’ Trenobin indicated the wall of the cliff.

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but your plan has a flaw,’ Marrok pointed out. ‘All I see is rock and vine.’

  ‘Indeed you do. I suggest you look deeper. Have you not recently learnt this lesson?’ Trenobin chuckled. He stepped forward and prised the vine fronds apart. The plant parted easily and revealed a dark cave beyond. Marrok muttered to himself, and Coinin caught a curse word or two. He wondered why they had stayed the night out in the open and not in this cave.

  ‘Behold the Cave of Destiny. None who venture forth can turn back. The path to enlightenment is a singular journey fraught with many dangers,’ Trenobin announced dramatically.

  Coinin looked at him wide-eyed and excited, and Marrok credulous, until Trenobin broke into fits of laughter.

  ‘I am joking, it’s only a cave, and we must journey through it. Come on,’ he said and disappeared behind the fronds.

  ‘Why did we spend the night out here, and not in the cave?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘The cave seals itself at sundown and reopens at sun up. We didn’t reach the cave before sunset yesterday,’ Trenobin replied.

  The moment Coinin stepped inside, the light was almost as bright as the day outside, thanks to Trenobin once again providing his magical illumination.

  The dwarf led them through a cave that grew taller and wider than any Coinin had seen. Thousands of stalagmites and stalactites attempted to reach one another, and the group had to dodge and weave around them.

  ‘Is there not an easier route?’ Marrok complained.

  ‘Sadly not for you,’ Trenobin replied.

  It took twenty minutes to reach the other side, and at each step, the cave became smaller until they finally arrived at the far wall.

  ‘Now what?’ Marrok enquired, bored with Trenobin’s games.

  ‘This,’ said Trenobin cheerily, and promptly stuck his hand into a second hole in the rock wall. An instant later he dropped through a hole in the floor that had appeared.

  Coinin shrugged and followed suit. His heart immediately jumped into his throat as he hurtled down a long shaft that twisted sickeningly with dozens of turns until finally, he landed with a bump.

  ‘I have not done that in years. I forgot how much fun it was,’ Trenobin guffawed.

  Marrok followed closely by Draken, arrived with equal force several moments later.

  They took a moment to shake the ride from their systems, and then Trenobin led them to a shaft cut into the rock wall. Each member of the group, except Trenobin, had to stoop to enter it. Coinin grew so anxious at the closeness of the rock walls that he began to sweat and grasped at his brother for comfort. Ten minutes later the shaft widened, and the ceiling raised enough to stand upright, and it was now that Coinin began to relax, his fear of enclosed spaces eased.

  The faint sound of running water echoed up the tunnel and bounced off the rock walls.

  ‘Is there a river nearby?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘Yes, and a relatively swift one at that, but don’t worry, there is transport available,’ Trenobin assured them.

  ‘We have to ride a river in pitch black?’ Marrok indicated the lack of light ahead.

  ‘Trust me, Marrok, you do not want to see this ride. Safe as I know it to be, it has been known to drive man and dwarf alike out of their minds.’

  ‘That’s very comforting, I’m sure,’ said Marrok sarcastically.

  ‘What are we waiting for? We have a river to ride,’ said Trenobin as he sped his
way down the tunnel.

  As he disappeared, so did the light. Marrok cursed and dug into his pack, and after a few moments, he managed to get a torch lit that cast a warm glow around them. With no other options, the group followed Trenobin’s example and emerged minutes later on a ledge only slightly higher than the river itself. The river looked strange, glowing red with blood.

  ‘Curious, is it not?’ Trenobin smiled.

  ‘How many rivers of blood do you see a day, Trenobin? Of course, it’s curious,’ said Marrok rudely, and promptly received a cuff to the head from Draken.

  ‘Respect, boy, show some.’ Draken glowered.

  ‘Yes, Uncle.’ Marrok glared back.

  ‘Is it really blood?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘No, it’s an illusion designed to scare intruders away. There’s more to see if you’ll follow me. Now, be careful as you step into the boat; I wouldn’t want any of you to fall in and be swept away by the current.’

  As if piloted by an invisible oarsman, a flat-bottomed wooden boat appeared in the glow of Marrok’s torch. They boarded swiftly. Trenobin cast off and asked that the flame be extinguished.

  To the uninitiated, the ride was the most terrifying anyone could endure.

  It twisted and turned so sharply that Coinin had to hold on for dear life for fear of being thrown from the craft. There were many long drops and sudden jolts that he wondered why every bone in his body was not broken. The journey was in pitch black, which only added to the fear, as there was no warning of what lay ahead. The wind howled and bit at the face as they swept down the black tunnel, and the roar of the water deafened them. Marrok understood why Trenobin stated that men’s minds would turn.

  Trenobin hummed a merry tune to himself the whole of the journey, and Coinin lost his breakfast several times over.

  ‘Are we going uphill?’ Coinin asked queasily and hung his head over the edge of the boat once more.

  ‘Yes, indeed we are.’

  ‘I don’t think I want to know how my brain hurts enough as it is,’ said Coinin as he fought a fresh wave of nausea.