Читать книгу Blackfire: The Rise of the Creeping Moors - James Daniel Eckblad - Страница 11

Childheart pushed in the partially opened gate and waited until his eyes became adjusted to the dark. The room was small, serving principally as a landing for winding stairs that spiraled both up and down. The stone ceiling was a good thirty feet high, and just below it on three sides several tiny windows allowed in just enough light for Childheart to see where he was.

The stairs was far too narrow for either Childheart or Starnee to negotiate, so the unicorn headed for a low archway behind the staircase, the only other way to enter or exit the room besides the gate and the stairs. Childheart lowered his head slightly and walked into the next room, also lit by several tiny windows just beneath its high ceiling. The room was actually a long and narrow hallway that opened onto a dozen other rooms before bending out of sight in the darkness, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet ahead. The door to each room was wide open. Immediately to his left and right there was a pair of smaller hallways, each with a heavy wooden door opened wide, and both entirely dark beyond the doorway and too narrow for Childheart to enter.

As Childheart, alert for enemy presence, walked past the twelve rooms, six to one side of the hall and six to the other side, he saw that each doorway opened wide into a large chamber filled with light from a floor-to-ceiling multi-paned window occupying the bulk of the wall opposite the doorway, with empty bookcases framing the window and lining the remainder of the walls. Inside each room there was a king size poster bed, a vast wardrobe, a small desk and chair in front of the vast window, both an upholstered chair and a sofa, and several nightstands and end tables. All of the furniture would have been ready for guests, but for the thick dust that coated everything, including the bed linens and rugs on the floors—suggestive of what one might find in a crypt rather than a bedroom.

Childheart stepped, lightly tapping his hooves, past the last of the doorways and stopped; the rest of the hallway bent sharply into darkness just ahead and off to the left. He was beginning to turn to go back to where he’d left his two friends when he smelled smoke, as if from a fireplace, and changed his mind—especially since, commingled with the smoke, he scented something baking; all were in need of nourishment, but especially Thorn. And in addition, he suddenly realized, where there is food there is nearly always something to drink.

Childheart stepped without caution around the corner into the blackness that concealed what was almost certainly going to be an imminent encounter of an uncertain sort. Foremost in his mind was the smell of something desperately needed by Thorn. Besides, whoever—or whatever—it was had certainly by now been aware of his presence for some time—and likely also of the existence of his companions. Indeed, the only other sound besides that of his hooves on the stone floor was that of Starnee yanking boards off windows—so faintly in the distance that it seemed as if the two friends now occupied different worlds.

Childheart continued walking the hallway that continued to bend, to the left and down, and then slowly and continuously up again, and to the right. He had no sense of how far he had gone—or of how long he had been traveling. But it seemed to him to take an inordinate amount of time to cover ground contained solely within the confines of even the largest of castles. He stopped to listen; he no longer heard Starnee, or any sound other than his breathing, and saw nothing as of yet. Childheart wondered how long it had been since he left the front hall—and his friends—behind him. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? An hour perhaps?

He resumed walking; and the odor of smoke and the scent of something baking increased, first gradually, and then markedly so. At about the same time he noticed a faint light drifting into his field of vision ffrom just around a corner up ahead and to the right, its orange glow flickering off the passageway wall to the left. Childheart stopped and announced his approach.

“Hail! Seeking only a peaceful encounter!” He then waited a moment for a reply. Hearing none, he walked several more paces and stepped around the corner into a moon-ish light beaming dimly from an open doorway atop a wide staircase. Childheart ascended the dozen stairs and stopped just before the doorway. Then, with head lowered, and with gentle, but resolute steps, he crossed the threshold and halted once again.

In the dim light he saw what appeared to be a large library with a high beamed ceiling and smooth stone walls on three sides covered floor to ceiling with polished wooden bookcases, all of them, as before, entirely empty. Straight ahead, as well as off to the left, there was a large, leaded glass window on each of the two walls, revealing only blackness behind the panes, as if someone had piled dirt against them. But off to the right there was a fireplace the size of a foundry furnace, its low flames of little utility except to provide a soft, velvety gleam to the black granite floor and to silhouette the presence of a figure standing in front of the fire, his back to Childheart.

The figure pivoted on one foot to face Childheart, but accomplished the maneuver so efficiently that the unicorn was unable to get a glimpse of the person’s face in the firelight. “Childheart, it is so good to see you! Please!” the person said effusively, as whoever it was stepped lightly toward the unicorn. “Please come in and warm yourself. There is also food and drink for your comfort.”

“Kahner!” Childheart said, making no movement.

“Childheart, please, come and rest yourself,” Kahner said, extending his arms, “and let me both hear news from you and tell you what has happened to me. The news is both good and bad, but I trust that our stories together will render circumstances more favorable.”

As Childheart approached Kahner, not yet able to see his face or how he was dressed, he noted the voice of someone who seemed much older than the Kahner he assumed was just lost in the recent battle, alerting Childheart to the distinct possibility that he was approaching a phantasm formed by dark powers or perhaps an imposter. So little of the Bairnmoor under the control of Sutante Bliss was real or true any longer that very little could be trusted at face value. The person who seemed to be the one in whom Beatríz had invested a vast store of affection stopped, turned into the light, and gestured welcomingly toward the fire. Childheart was relieved to see that it was, indeed, Kahner. Kahner reached out a hand and touched Childheart on his forehead. Childheart nodded a warm greeting in return.

“Please,” Kahner said again, “lay yourself down by the fire and let me tell you what has happened—and then please tell me how it goes with you and the others.”

“But first, Kahner, I must attend to Thorn and Starnee, whom I left in the entry hall. Thorn is injured and both require nourishment.”

“Childheart, I will return with you and do what I can to assist them, but, please, let us talk first, if only for a few minutes.”

Hesitantly, Childheart folded his legs and lay down on the rug next to the hearth, while Kahner seated himself in one of the three leather chairs that were grouped between the fireplace and a large desk. Kahner poured two drafts of fermented cider—one in a cup for himself and the other in a shallow bowl for Childheart—and pointed Childheart to a tray of various things to eat, including fresh-baked bread and roasted vegetables. How it was that they had come very recently into being wasn’t at all obvious, and Childheart trusted that clarifying other more important matters would at the same time explain the origin of the food and drink.

“Childheart,” Kahner said quickly, “I was so glad to learn only hours ago from this vantage point that at least three others of our mission party are still alive. But,” he said with a sigh before continuing, “I’m afraid to say that I do not have good news about two others from the group.” Childheart’s ears flickered distress reflecting the torture of being forced to wonder which of the four absent children were, it seemed from Kahner’s tone, no longer alive. Involuntarily and plagued with guilt, the unicorn wrestled over which children he hoped most would still be alive. “Which two of them, Kahner?” asked Childheart, his voice thick with consternation.

“Beatríz and Elli,” said Kahner, sounding sadly reticent.

“Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

Childheart exhaled heavily through his mouth. “How do you know?”

“Because . . . because I was there.”

“How did they die? Who killed them?”

“I need to start from the beginning, Childheart, or it won’t make sense.”

“It will never make sense to me, Kahner, never, even if a provident Good is to blame—never. But first tell me how they were killed and who killed them.”

“They died when the earthquake struck—in the tomb.”

“In the tomb?” said Childheart, with a nearly despairing incredulity, his body tensing, as if about to erupt in rage. Childheart glared at Kahner, forcing the boy—dressed in an adult uniform evident of some authority—to look away. Childheart exhaled again, ejaculating a shrill whistle that caused Kahner to grimace. “Go on,” he said.

Kahner took a drink from his cup and then rose and stood by the fire, alternating between looking at Childheart and gazing at the flames as he spoke. “In The Mountains, only a day or so ago, but who can say for sure given this incessant twilight: the five of us were pressing ourselves as fast as possible through the narrow break in the tunnel wall you ordered us to enter while you and Thorn dealt with the enemy forces heading toward us in the main passageway. It wasn’t long after the noise of your battle stopped when we reached the end of the tunnel—or so stated Jamie, who was in the lead; I couldn’t see, because we were in single file, on a zigzagging path, and I was last.” Kahner put both hands in the side pockets of his long purple military coat that displayed several bars and stars on the shoulders, and then continued.

“An encounter between Jamie and a creature of some sort—I couldn’t see what it was—was about to occur when I was grabbed by several arms from behind, the hand of one of them immediately pulling a thick bag over my head while another clasped itself tightly over my nose and mouth. In an instant I was no longer in the tunnel with the others, but was being carried through another, much larger, passageway, with enemy troops—I could make out by hearing—in front and back and off to the sides as we proceeded.”

“So, you and the others passed this larger tunnel just as you were reaching the end of the narrow passageway, but decided not to take it?” said Childheart, his voice rising slightly as he repeated a statement of apparent fact that puzzled him.

“No, Childheart. It wasn’t there. It opened suddenly behind me, and I wasn’t aware of it until they had dragged me into the passageway and I heard the opening just as quickly close. I don’t think any of the others knew at that point that anything had happened to me. It’s called a portal, and I can explain it for you in just a bit if you like.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I was being carried away from the portal through this large tunnel that must have stretched for some miles, perhaps meanderingly so. I couldn’t say. In any event, Childheart, it was it seemed a long time—an hour maybe?—before we stopped and I was brought into a large hall. It was underground, but it had a high ceiling and pillars framing the sides, as I would soon learn.

“I was pushed to my knees, and I waited—I knew not what for! I heard a large door open and close, and someone’s steps entering the hall; all were commanded to stand at attention. I heard the boots of a hundred warriors or more execute the maneuver as I was pulled back to my feet. At that point the bag was pulled from my head, and I was standing in front of a high-ranking officer standing atop stairs twenty feet away. A chopping block, with an axe embedded in it, was just to the side of where I was standing and I was certain this was my moment of death. The officer ordered me to tell him who I was, and where I had come from.

“I said, ‘I’m called Kahner.’ It was then that those gathered around me all gasped, as did the officer. I quickly continued, ‘I’m from a place far to the south, well beyond all The Mountains,’ . . . And it was then that the officer announced to all assembled, ‘It’s Kahner! Indeed, it is Kahner!’ The official who had just entered the hall came down the steps, stood in front of me, looking fierce, and I expected at that moment that I would be forced back to my knees and lose my head. But the official knelt—in front of me! And as soon as he knelt all of the others in the hall knelt as well.

“The officer said to me, ‘Lord Kahner, all of us thought you were dead! For lo these many years, I, your loyal Custagus, and your second in charge, have commanded your soldiers and warrior creatures against the forces of Santanya, who now controls this part of Bairnmoor. We are in the largest of the two assembly halls beneath Taralina’s castle, which we now occupy, and there is a fierce battle at present going on above ground to save the castle from a heavy onslaught. We saw actual children in the distance, who were battling Santanya’s forces, and immediately set after them—to rescue the children and win the battle against the enemy forces.’

“Childheart, it was only then that my memory returned, and I remembered who I was—that is, who I am: I am Kahner, the general of forces aligned with Taralina in this part of Bairnmoor, doing battle against both Santanya’s and Sutante’s forces. (I learned quickly that Sutante’s forces had secured much of this land and left Santanya—who is Sutante’s daughter, and his successor—to clean-up operations against my forces, which controlled, finally, only Taralina’s castle; at this point, Queen Taralina had been long dead.)”

“Kahner! This is of interest to me, to be sure, but tell me about Beatríz and Elli!” Childheart said impatiently. Kahner began to pace in front of the fireplace.

“As soon as I remembered who I was and was about to send these forces back to the surface, both to locate our friends and to assist in the battle, one of my soldiers burst into the hall and pushed his way through the ranks, yelling, ‘General Custagus! There are two children on the stairs, descending toward the Queen’s vault!’ I immediately took command once again of my forces and ordered them to the hall adjacent to the tomb. We arrived in a matter of seconds, and I was standing in front of my men when Beatríz and Elli stepped into the hall. They were, of course, frozen in place in disbelief and confusion. I said, immediately upon seeing them, ‘Elli! Beatríz! Yes, it’s me! It’s hard to believe, I know, but I will have to explain later! Right now we have to get you to the vault with the black key—there is no time to lose! Quickly—run!’

“Hardly a moment later Elli and Beatríz were at the tomb, and Beatríz was inserting the key into the tomb door when we felt vibrations in the earth. But Elli and Beatríz opened the door and stepped into the tomb. At that very moment, Childheart, the earthquake struck! The tomb door slammed shut, ejecting the key and tossing it across the floor. I grabbed the key near my feet and started running toward the tomb to save Beatríz and Elli, but the tomb suddenly collapsed and the hall ceiling was cracking. I ordered my warriors to retreat back to the large hall where I was moments earlier interrogated, to wait for the earthquake to stop. I, myself, dove through a small doorway not far from the vault where I could take shelter. All of us were at risk of being buried alive, but I knew both that my men stood a better chance of surviving in the far hallway (where all of them could fit)—and that I stood a better chance of surviving in the small chamber and still be closest to Beatríz and Elli, hoping against hope that I could yet assist them.

“When the earthquake finally stopped, I ran out toward the vault hall, only to learn that most of the hall, along with the tomb, had also collapsed; I knew the girls could not have survived; nevertheless, I had hoped that my troops could help me clear the hall and get to the tomb to recover the bodies of Beatríz and Elli.”

Kahner drank another long draft of the hard cider. “Because of its connections to ground level and the castle, I climbed a set of hidden stairs to the surface to learn the status of the battle, shocked to find no one. Many of my forces, as you know, had been killed, and others must have fled, either north, or west to the woods. I made my way, then, down another hidden set of paths and stairs to the hall where I expected to find my forces; from there I hoped we could return to the vault hall, clear away all the rubble, and find and bring out Elli and Beatríz’s bodies.”

Kahner stopped pacing and stood in the light facing Childheart. “When I got to the hall where I expected to find my troops and warriors, I discovered that, like the other hall, and the tomb, this hall, too, had collapsed—entirely—burying all under my command who had gathered there.

“At that point I decided to go to this small headquarters in the castle that, from the outside, appears unoccupied. From here I have been surveying the landscape, including the battlefield, hoping to find some of my troops—as well as some of my friends, including you, Childheart.

“I was strategizing about what to do next when I heard your familiar hooves striking the stone floor, and then your voice. Nevertheless, I waited until you appeared before speaking to you, just to make sure.”

Childheart continued to look hard at Kahner, less out of suspicion than out of a great pondering of all that the unicorn had thus far heard.

While awaiting a reaction from Childheart, Kahner added: “This hall and set of rooms—my above-ground headquarters—have for a long time appeared abandoned. Thin vines cover the windows entirely, although I can still see through them—unperceived—with a spyglass.

“I had seen you and Starnee earlier approaching the castle.” An awkward silence ensued. Childheart abruptly jumped to his feet.

“Tell me, Kahner, why were your men trying to kill or capture Starnee and me?”

“As soon as I recalled who I was, I remembered the children, and immediately sent orders to my forces fighting above ground to make sure they rescued the children and considered any unicorn, condor, and creature made of sticks their allies; but by then all battle fronts had joined issue with the enemy, including the fighting already occurring above the vault stairs. Word never reached my forces who may have been attacking you, because I had hardly dispatched a soldier with my message concerning you when the earthquake struck.”

“And on what basis, Kahner, given this—shall we say, unusual—turn of events am I to take you at your word?”

“Because of this, Childheart,” Kahner said, as he reached into his coat pocket and handed Childheart the black key. The unicorn took it in his teeth, dropped it on a low table, and examined it; it was indeed Beatríz’s black key.

The two of them remained stationary and quiet for an extended moment. “Kahner, I do not know where we go or what we do from here, but I can only wish that you may be able to provide a word of hope in that regard. I will not leave this place—or do anything further except look for Jamie and Alex—until we have excavated the tomb, found the bodies of the girls, and given them an honorable burial.”

“Childheart,” Kahner said softly, “is this wise? Trying at this point to recover the bodies of Elli and Beatríz, I mean. Santanya’s forces may attack once again at any moment—and while we have to look for Jamie and Alex, as you said, we should also flee this area as soon as possible. Given that,” Kahner added quickly, “is it wiser to look for the bodies now, with limited resources, or is it more urgent to find my forces? And then, perhaps, accomplish more safely and readily the finding of the girls, along with the boys?”

“I don’t know if looking for our friends’ bodies is the wisest thing to do, Kahner; but I do know it is the right thing to do! Let’s return to Starnee and Thorn, take care of Thorn’s injuries, get them some nourishment, and then together decide how next to proceed.”

“Yes, if you say so, Childheart,” Kahner replied while collecting together the food and drink—and wondering to what extent Childheart believed the story he told.

When they had retraced Childheart’s steps and entered the front hall of the castle, the light from two torches flickering above the unused fireplace joined the twilight falling meekly from the windows near the ceiling. It seemed to Childheart as if his friends had mysteriously disappeared, their presence having blended into a pocket of darkness made all the darker by light from the torches providing more glare than illumination.

“Starnee! Starnee!” cried out Childheart, terror rising. But the only reply was the echo of his own words, as if screamed by something in the darkness mocking him.