Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) by Christopher Jackson-Ash (ebook reader wifi TXT) 📕

Taran and Dawit were on their feet in an instant. Taran notched an arrow to his bow. Dawit wielded his axe. The elephion sniffed the air, stopped, and looked at them. It stood tall and let out a roar that would have done the Melbourne Cricket Ground proud on Grand Final Day. All the night noises of the forest stopped. Simon stopped breathing. Taran made ready to loose his arrow. The creature gave them another disdainful look and then sauntered off. Simon released his pent up breath. Phew, that was close, must have already eaten. The two-headed lemur-like creature chattered excitedly to itselves and helped itselves to some biscuits from one of the packs.

Dawit and Taran took turns to keep watch. They insisted that Simon and Jhamed sleep since they were unarmed and would have a big day ahead of them. Simon slept fitfully. His dreams were full of hideous crones with black cats and ravens. The witches stirred huge cauldrons and concocted potions, which they force-fed him to make him reveal the location of his Sword. He tried to refuse, but they were truth serums and he could not resist. The witches found his Sword and used it kill all of his friends. The Sword ate their souls and then the witches ate their bodies.

Simon woke in a cold sweat. The moon had gone. Jhamed was snoring softly and the fire was low. Reflected in the faint firelight, Simon saw four eyes watching him. They were small, yellow eyes; animal eyes, yet they shone with the fiercest intelligence that he had ever seen. The two-headed lemur creature had seated itself on the group’s food and sat watching Simon. Simon deliberately blinked his eyes to try to clear them of sleep. He could have sworn that the creature had winked at him, with both heads at the same time. If I didn’t know better, I’d reckon we’d all taken LSD or something. The creature chattered to itselves. Words formed in Simon’s head. Remember Vasek. Only Vasek can control the Sword. Beware Fleischaker! It consumes the souls of friends as well as enemies. The two-headed lemur creature gave him another two winks and skittered off into the forest. Simon slept again. When he awoke, he wasn’t sure whether he had dreamt everything.

Tamarlan

The four companions were too tired to explore the First Delve very far. They carefully descended a wide rock stair to the second level. Gamying, who was familiar with the layout, led them to some guest quarters. They found made-up beds and large jugs of water, as if guests were expected. Manfred and Kris made themselves comfortable while Gamying took Aglaral to find sustenance.

Manfred was extremely tired and found it difficult to keep his eyes open. He watched Kris through half-closed eyelids. The bard was curled up on his bed, in the foetal position again. Who is he? What role is he playing? What should I do with him? “Is there anything that you need to tell me, Kris?” The bard just whimpered and curled himself up tighter. I cannot trust him. I must stay awake until Gamying and Aglaral return.

When Gamying and Aglaral returned about twenty minutes later, they found both Kris and Manfred asleep. “Do you think we should wake them?” Aglaral asked.

“We’d better, Manfred needs to eat. We need him at full strength. As for the coward, I couldn’t care less.”

“There may be an explanation for his actions. I prefer to extend the concept of innocent until proven guilty,” Aglaral declared.

“He was condemned out of his own mouth, as far as I’m concerned. When we get to Tamarlan, I intend to prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law.”

“That is as it should be. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt until then. But keep a wary eye on him at all times,” Aglaral said.

“Agreed, my friend. You fought well today. I am proud to have had the honour to stand beside you in battle. I fear that there may be many more battles ahead of us. I would be proud to have you join the elite Tamarlan Palace Guard. I would have someone I trust to watch my back in the battles ahead.”

“I am honoured, my Lord. Despite everything, I remain a Captain of the City States in the current service of Elannort. My family remains at risk in the south. I am cast on the seas of fate. Let us wait to see which shore I am cast upon next.”

Gamying nodded and moved to wake up Manfred and Kris. He gently nudged the old wizard, but was much rougher when he shook the sleeping bard. The two men sat up and listened to Gamying’s report.

“As you suspected, the halls are empty. Where the dwarves have gone, I do not know. Although times were hard, there was no talk of leaving when I was here recently and Dawit said nothing at the Council that would hint at where they might be. There was no evidence that they went south, so I must assume that they have gone to Tamarlan. I fear that so many hungry mouths will not be welcomed there. Whatever happened, it is clear that they left in a hurry. Tables are set for a meal. Half-eaten food remains on the plates. Clothes are scattered about. Chairs are knocked over in the rush to leave. We neither saw nor heard any evidence that an enemy has been here or is still present. We have collected food and beer. We should eat and rest. We can explore further tomorrow.”

The weary travellers feasted on stale bread, dried meat strips, last year’s soft crinkly apples, and mugs of foaming ale. Gamying and Aglaral chattered about the fight with the wargs and what they had seen exploring the delve. Kris sat quietly, nibbling slowly on a strip of dried meat. Manfred savoured the dwarven ale and observed the scene, while his mind was busy on other matters. At last, he spoke.

“I have probed the delve, right down to the lowest levels. There is no one living here, other than ourselves. I cannot fathom it. Something or someone must have precipitated this, but I can feel no trace. I cannot believe that they would head for Tamarlan. I have probed as far as I can, but I cannot feel the dwarves. They may no longer be in this dimension. I wish I had Jhamed here; there may be a hidden dimension portal in the delve. At least we can sleep safe tonight. Tomorrow we must try to get to Tamarlan. Tamarlan is nervous, but safe. Let us rest now. I for one am exhausted. Let’s snuff the torches; we will have need of them tomorrow.”

“With your leave, my Sage, Aglaral and I will take turns to keep watch. We will keep one torch alight.” Gamying cast a furtive glance at Kris as he spoke.

“As you wish, Gamying. I’m afraid I am too tired to take my turn. Make sure you both get some rest.” Manfred rolled onto his bunk, pulled a blanket over himself, and was snoring within a few moments. Kris pulled a blanket over his head to hide from Gamying’s accusing eyes. Aglaral snuffed out all but one of the torches. The delve settled into quiet darkness, broken only by the ripples of light from the flickering torch and the burbles of Manfred’s snores that seemed to resonate with the flickers.

Gamying woke them a few hours later. It was still several hours before dawn outside. Aglaral was absent. They quickly attended to their morning ablutions and broke their fasts on the remains of the previous night’s provisions. Aglaral returned, laden with new torches, filled water bottles and more provisions. Gamying took charge.

“Listen carefully. We are going to descend deep into the delve. There is a secret back door that will take us out onto the Tamarlan Road. We will avoid the Suicide Pass by taking this route. We must leave now if we are to make Tamarlan before nightfall. There will be new torches positioned at intervals along the way. Always carry two torches, one lit and another new one, which you must light before the first one expires. Do not discard your used torch. As soon as you reach a torch station, take a new torch and leave your used one there. Take up your packs. I’m sorry Manfred; there will be many stairs to descend.” Just my luck. I was hoping for a long lie in and breakfast in bed.

Gamying led them through the delve with confident certainty. It took them several hours, with frequent brief rest stops. In the course of their journey, they descended through so many levels that Manfred lost count. The immense size of Dwarvenhome became apparent to them all. They caught only the briefest of glimpses of the dwarven halls in the flickering light of their torches. The top levels were obviously the living levels, full of accommodation and social rooms. As they descended lower, by vast staircases hewn from the rock, the halls became cavernous. The meagre light from their torches was quickly absorbed by the total blackness. Just occasionally, their lights would reflect off jewelled walls or golden outcrops and they would get a glimpse of the hidden majesty of the caverns.

At one of these glimpses, Aglaral gasped aloud. “It must be a wondrous sight to see these caverns fully illuminated.”

Gamying stopped for a moment. “It is one of the Seven Wonders of the World – Melasurej, the Great Lighthouse at Rhakotis, the Jewelled Caverns of Devil’s Mouth, the One Tree and Hanging Gardens at Elvenhome, the Old Theatre at Tamarlan, the Coliseum at Kartage, and the Lost Tower. I have been fortunate enough to see five of them. I hope one day to visit Eden and to be allowed to see the Hanging Gardens. No human in living history has seen the Lost Tower nor knows its location. I would wager that none of them, even Melasurej itself, could hold a candle to these caverns. They are fully lit only on dwarven feast days. They are a sight to behold.”

As they descended further, the levels became less cavernous and more like a mining venture with small tunnels and workings. There were piles of rocks awaiting sorting and other piles that seemed to contain great treasures. The light of their torches illuminated the wealth created by generations of toil. There were piles of jewels, sparkling in all the colours of the rainbow. Most of all, there were stacks of gold nuggets. There was enough gold in a single heap to fuel the dreams of every human on the planet. There were piles as far as the eye could make out in the gloom. Surely, there were riches here beyond the dreams of avarice. Three of the companions appeared to be unaffected by the riches before them. Kris, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his eyes, which widened with lust. He managed to manoeuvre himself to be last in the line and orchestrated a stumble that put him out of sight of the rest of the group. Taking his chance, he stuffed his pockets with as much gold as he could fit in. As he hurried to catch up with the others, he struggled to deal with the excess weight he was carrying.

As they got deeper under the mountain, the temperature changed. At first the air was at a pleasant temperature and very fresh to breathe. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the caverns from some form of natural ventilation