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

“Don’t worry, old man, we’ll soon be out in the fresh air again,” Gamying told him. “We are about to enter a tunnel that will take us to the secret entrance. It is very small, so it might be a tight squeeze. It was built for dwarves and to slow down humans if they found the passage and tried to gain entry. There is a mechanism at this end to collapse the tunnel on top of any invaders should the door be breached. It’s about five miles long, so it will be a tough walk or crawl. There’s a door at the end. It’s sealed with magic. I couldn’t open it when I tried to come the other way, so I had to climb Suicide Pass. I’m sure you’ll be able to open it. You go first and I’ll bring up the rear. We’ll travel at your pace.”

Sure enough, they found the entrance to the tunnel almost immediately. It was built for a dwarf to walk with difficulty, with head bowed and carrying an axe. This meant it was no more than four feet high, although reasonably wide, perhaps six feet. The floor was very smooth, as if many people had passed this way over the years and had dragged wagons behind them. It seemed that this route might be the preferred way to trade with Tamarlan. Manfred muttered something profane under his breath. “As if my old bones haven’t been through enough; now you want me to crawl for five miles? And what if I can’t open the door?” Of course, I will be able to.

“You will, old man. You are not called The Magician for nothing. And if you can’t it will be five miles back again, climb all those stairs we came down, and a descent through Suicide Pass. Any more questions? Let’s get going.”

“Wait!” Aglaral stopped them. “There must be a better way. Wait here for a moment.” He disappeared into the darkness but reappeared a few minutes later dragging a flat trolley with small wheels. “There are more of these over there. The dwarves must use them for moving trading goods through the tunnel. Get one each and we can lie down and use our legs to push us through the tunnel.”

Quickly the group assembled its convoy of small wagons. Manfred led the way, Aglaral second, Kris behind him, and Gamying brought up the rear. There were torch holders on the wagons, which allowed them to see what they were doing and freed their hands so that they could hold on to the rough wood. They legged it down the tunnel, like old canal barge travellers passing through a cutting. Fortunately, the tunnel sloped slightly down towards the door. The floor was very smooth and the wheels on the trolleys were well oiled, so friction was not great. Even so, the unusual strain on the legs soon caused discomfort and cramps. I suppose it is marginally better than crawling. It’s certainly better than descending through Suicide Pass. I’ll need a long soak in a hot bath when we reach Tamarlan. And a massage from that young blonde I saw last time. Although, she’s probably in her dotage by now, passing her time in a rocking chair. Like I should be, instead of having all these crazy adventures. By the Balance, I am tired. If this tunnel collapsed now, I would almost welcome it. No! Get a grip, Manfred, your work is not yet done. The greatest challenge still lies ahead. Simon will depend on you.

Aglaral was young and fit and he found it relatively easy to keep up with Manfred’s pace. In fact, he had to be careful not to go too fast and bump into the wizard’s trolley. The monotony of the journey caused his mind to wander. He thought about his family, and worried again whether Velacourt would keep his word. He was torn between serving Manfred, joining Gamying, and rushing back home. Why have the fates cast me in this important part? I’m a simple soldier. What have I to offer? The answer came unbidden into his mind. You have always understood the need for balance in everything. You believe in fairness and everyone getting an equal opportunity. You abhor evil in all its forms, whether chaos driven or inflicted by law. You are a man of the Balance.

Kris was just the right build for walking in the tunnel but he found it very uncomfortable on his wagon. The pockets of his coat were stuffed full of gold nuggets and however he tried to position himself, they dug into his body. His short legs had to stretch to their limits to reach the wall. At each push, he squirmed in pain as the gold bruised his body. I will look like a chessboard after this. But what a story it will make. Provided that I can rewrite the bit involving the wargs. Just the memory of the events in the hut made him shiver with fear. He forced himself to think of better things. I have enough gold to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I will find a nice place in Tamarlan and live a comfortable life – good food, fine wine, beautiful women. I’ll write a few stories and perform at the Old Theatre. I have done my bit. I have found my reward. If only He will leave me alone.

Gamying easily maintained the pace he needed to stay with the others. He was a man at the peak of his life, ready for the challenges that the forthcoming war would throw at him. If he really thought about it, he had enjoyed the battle with the wargs. Victory was sweet. He was a warrior at heart. Tamarlan must be protected at all costs. The Sword must come north. How can a puny boy wield such a sword? It needs a warrior. A warrior like me! That chain of thought was leading into dangerous waters. He changed tack and reviewed his journey and what he had achieved. Soon he would be home again and would need to report to his father in a concise manner. There would be much to recount. His father would be pleased that he had brought Manfred with him. He would be even more pleased were the Sword to come too. If we had the Sword, Tamarlan would be a real power in the world. No one would threaten us again.

It took them about ninety minutes to traverse the tunnel. At the far end, the tunnel widened somewhat into a small chamber at the door. They came to a bumpy halt in a collision of trolleys, door, legs, and curses. No one was seriously injured, because Manfred, by now, was travelling at a very gentle speed. The door itself looked very strong. It was built from sturdy oak, now black with age, with in-built iron reinforcements. It had no handle and no visible lock. The sound of rushing water could be heard from the other side.

Manfred gingerly extracted himself from the wreckage and used his torch to get a better look at the detail. “You are correct, Gamying. This door has a magic lock. There are dwarfish runes on the lintel. I will need a short time to decipher them; my ancient dwarfish is rather rusty.” The others stretched their legs and inspected their bruises while Manfred paced and considered. Come on, Magician. They are expecting great things from you. Concentrate. After several minutes, he stopped pacing and addressed them, with an appropriate degree of solemnity. “The translation of the runes is as follows. ‘If you are a true friend of the dwarves speak the name of our god, pass in peace, and return safe and sound.’ It is a simple lock, requiring only the speaking of the word Satania, in ancient dwarfish.” He turned around, facing the door and in a strong clear voice uttered a phrase that sounded like ‘Bahl Shamim’.” Nothing happened. Bugger! That should have worked. He spoke the words again. There was no response. He stared at the door for some time. “I am confident that I have interpreted the runes correctly. I cannot explain why the door hasn’t opened.”

The others looked at Manfred in consternation. The thought of the return journey to the top of the mountain was not one to contemplate with pleasure. They shuffled around aimlessly in the flicker of the torch light. The sound of rushing water, so close to them, only made their predicament more acute.

“Can the door be broken down or opened any other way?” Aglaral asked.

“There is strong magic here. It is old magic, older than wizards. There is no way that this door can be breached. I don’t understand it. I have spoken the words correctly.” Manfred was bemused.

“Tell me what the runes say again,” Gamying said.

“If you are a true friend of the dwarves speak the name of our god, pass in peace, and return safe and sound,” Manfred translated again.

“So it is conditional,” Gamying stated. “The door will only open for true friends of the dwarves. I am well known here as a dwarf friend. Manfred’s credentials go without saying. I would wager my life that the magic would recognise Aglaral as a true dwarf friend, despite the fact that he has only ever met one dwarf in his life. That leaves you Kris.” He stared at the bard and his eyes were daggers cutting into his soul. “Are you a true dwarf friend?” He drew his sword.

Kris dropped his eyes. He couldn’t meet Gamying’s gaze. He said nothing. The silence was only momentary but it seemed to drag on forever. The only sounds were the beating of four hearts and the water noise coming through the sealed door.

Eventually Manfred spoke. “Act not in anger, Gamying. There is something going on with Master Kris. I had hoped to resolve it in Tamarlan after we were well rested. If you have nothing to say, then I shall be forced to read your mind. I warn you that if you resist me, it may cause permanent damage.”

Kris spoke hurriedly. “That won’t be necessary, Manfred. I admit to my crime. It is one of greed, driven only by the want to have a secure and peaceful life.” He began to remove the gold nuggets from his pockets and stacked them by the wall of the alcove. “It appears that I have suffered the bruises of carrying these treasures for nothing. I shall live with the regret of what might have been for the rest of my miserable life.” As the last nugget left his pocket, the door began to swing open with a groan. They were momentarily blinded by the sunlight and closed their eyes in response. Kris moved to sneak the last nugget back into his pocket, but hesitated and placed it with the rest.

“Hah!” Gamying snorted. “So it is theft is it? Don’t think that this lets you off. Your behaviour with the wargs is fresh in my memory.” He sheathed his sword. “Manfred will have that conversation with you in Tamarlan and if you cannot adequately vouch for yourself, I will see that justice is served, one way or another.” The threat hung in the air, like thunder on a humid summer day. “Come, let us leave these dark halls and breathe fresh air and feel sunlight on our faces again.”

As their eyes adjusted to the light, they realised that the door exited onto a rock platform that was completely hidden by a cascading waterfall directly in front of them. The stream