A Warrior's Return (13 page)

There was an underground collective of
priests that guarded their ancient treasures of knowledge. The
order of priests were an offshoot cult of a much larger network of
cults primarily, Masonic in nature.

Some in the greater network of worldwide
darkness knew of this place and helped to keep its secrets. They
thrived on having knowledge unknown to others at their fingertips,
as it helped to lend an aura of credibility and mystical power to
their cultic orders.

The sense of credibility helped to draw in
often, hurting people, who were looking for something to believe in
and fill the emptiness of their lives. These cults like their
ancient forbearers the Orlandian’s at their heart held that
knowledge equaled power, even if it was just the power to
deceive.

Their thirst for new knowledge or even older
knowledge could never be quenched. They believed that the further
attainment of knowledge could give them a godlike status. It is not
a new frailty of humanity, but can be dated back to the Garden of
Eden when both Adam and Eve chose to eat of the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil so that they might know the things of
God and be like Him instead of eating of the tree of life, which
was freely open and available to them.

Thus man from the beginning destined himself
to be at enmity with God, in the thirst to be as God, in place of a
relationship with Him by which God imparts everlasting life and
even the revealing of mysteries from the foundation of the
world.

The cult at its most central element is a
self replicating body of believers that denies the false pretences
of its own existence by distorting the truth into a lie in order to
gain a future of their own making that can only lead to their
everlasting destruction in exchange for a momentary power and
position of elevated status.

One of the reasons that Talaric had avoided
the place for so long was that he didn’t want to potentially expose
the truths and existence of galaxy travel not to mention the
existence of other worlds should he be caught and the information
taken from him.

Such a revealing tale could lead to an
explosion in the growth of cults worldwide armed with such
knowledge and the temptation that such opportunities offered. A
thing he feared would happen anyway.

Now it was up to him to stop the Orlandian
inspired movement before the bad seeds of discontentment and
rebellion could bear any more bad fruit than they already had on
other worlds, namely his own.

His thoughts came to a halt as they reached
the small courtyard like plaza that he had been told of. Both he
and Ronan scarcely even breathed, as they scanned the still
moonlight scene of the plaza.

“Can’t see anything amiss Captain. It would
appear that the coast is clear for our little rum run Sir.”
Eleanor’s voice came through the little transmitter in Talaric’s
ear.

Talaric stepped out into the ancient little
courtyard toward the central well in the courtyard’s center. The
feeling of walking across the deserted plaza was the very essence
of the meaning of the word exposure. At any moment he expected to
feel the impact of bullets through his flesh or the onrush of a
sword wielding mob. Nothing happened though.

Talaric reached out and tested the strength
of the well rope. It wasn’t the greatest but it would have to do.
He got up on the edge of the well followed by Ronan and grabbed a
hold of the rope.

Before he disappeared into the well he heard
a hushed, “Good luck!” From Eleanor in his ear and then he was
descending into the darkness followed closely by Ronan.

Down, down, down they went into the well.
This access point to his knowledge wasn’t used or at least it
hadn’t been in a very long time and he hoped that it wasn’t because
the underground tunnels were caved in or something. Commonly used
or not, it still might be guarded.

Talaric’s foot touched water and he clamped
the rope between his knees and feet as he reached back and pulled a
small oxygen tank and goggle breathing mask from his pack, which he
then put on. He snapped the small tank to his belt.

He had enough air for twenty minutes, which
wasn’t going to be enough if the underground passageways were
completely flooded in this sector. He eased down into the water,
not liking the cold dark feel of it. When he was completely
submerged he turned his head lamp on, which brought the ancient
stonework of the well into sharp relief.

All he could say was that he was grateful
that he didn’t have to live here and drink this water. It was hard
to say how many sewers this well was openly connected with.

Down they went, both of them searching the
sides of the well shaft for some sign of an entrance off of it.
Talaric felt it before he saw it. The stone archway of a door.

The door was made of wood and surprisingly
it still appeared solid and whole, which was odd given its
submerged location. There was no door handle and it didn’t budge,
when he shoved against it. Ronan tapped his shoulder and he glanced
up at what Ronan was pointing to.

In the keystone of the arch above the door
was the image of a grinning human skull with a broad forehead.
There were several deep interlaced cracks on the forehead that
looked carved rather than natural. Talaric reached out and touch
them. Pushing slightly he felt the center of the forehead depress
slightly into the head of the skull and then he discovered that it
could turn.

He swiveled the stone upside down and saw
that the interlaced cracks formed the branches and trunk of a
solitary and barren looking tree. There was an audible click and
the doorway abruptly slid into the one side wall revealing a dark
passage beyond. Talaric let go of the rope and swam through the
opening followed by Ronan.

They were in a water filled room with an
elevated doorway on the other side of it. There was an abrupt slam
of stone and both men wheeled around to see that the door they had
just come through had slammed shut. After hurriedly searching
neither man could find a way of opening it from the inside and
there probably wasn’t. All they could do was go on.

Swimming across the room Talaric saw Ronan
point down and glancing down he saw a gruesome pile of skeletons.
The last remains of those who no doubt had come down here in search
of the secrets that this underworld held, only to find themselves
in this watery room with no way out. It left one with an eerie
feeling.

They swam up to the door the pile of
skeletons was congregated under. It was also made of wood, but it
was hinged and there was the face of a big lock on it that had six
keyholes no doubt made for special keys that they did not have.

It was probably a combination lock that
needed to be unlocked in a certain sequence of some kind. There
could be thousands perhaps even millions of six key type
configurations to go through before the right one was stumbled
upon.

They didn’t have the oxygen for that lengthy
ordeal. Thankfully they had been prepared for something like this.
Talaric glanced at his watch as Ronan worked on the door. They had
less than ten minutes left of air.

Ronan moved back some from the door and
pushed a small keypad in his hand. The water gurgled and bubbled
around the hinges and the lock, where small amounts of acid escaped
the seals. The gurgling stopped and Ronan pushed the button again
and there was a slight percussion that rippled through the water
around them.

The door shook off its remaining supports
and started to tip over and then fell toward the floor and the
grisly remains littered on it. Talaric quickly went through the
vacant doorway. He felt around with his hand, but all he could feel
was the sides of the tunnel.

The light on his head did no good because of
all the stirred up sediment in the water. It was as he had feared,
the tunnels were flooded and they were running out of air. Feeling
with their hands to find direction in the swirling darkness Talaric
and Ronan swam with all they had through the darkness in a
desperate fight against time.

The water started getting lighter and
Talaric knew that there must be a pocket of light from somewhere
above them. Light meant air and both men rose toward the surface
quickly, but abruptly stopped as their training took over.

Half choking on what little remained of
their oxygen each man slowly broke the surface of the water to peer
above its surface for danger. It was one of the hardest things that
either man had ever done. It was like drowning only without water
and what was needed for life was freely available.

The light was reflecting down a hallway and
there appeared to be nobody in this immediate room. Both men tore
off their masks and gasped for air, as quietly as they could, which
wasn’t very quiet. They treaded water, as they waited for their
breathing to slow down.

Ronan grabbed a hold of Talaric’s shoulder
and brought his face near and in an angry whisper the man with an
Irish name, but a French accent said heatedly, “Never again
monsieur! Never again! If you try to lead me down into a dark pit
like this again, I quit! I don’t care what it is you do for
me!”

Talaric grinned big still gasping for
breath, “Ronan, if I lead myself into another godforsaken hole like
this I quit!”

Together they made their way to an elevated
walkway and pulled themselves up onto it. Each man pulled several
components out of his pack and within moments each had assembled a
small one armed crossbow. Cautiously they began to make their way
into the subterranean world that of all things was illuminated here
and there along the way by incandescent light bulbs.

They saw no one, heard no one, but the
echoes of their own feet sounded loud. Hopefully everyone was at
home in their beds sleeping. Talaric couldn’t believe though that
they hadn’t seen any guards yet.

What was down here certainly merited around
the clock guards. Coming in the way they had, even though it had
almost killed them had been a stroke of genius. They had no doubt
given up on thinking of that as an access point and stationed
guards up higher in the ruins than this level. That was one theory
to explain the absence of guards anyway.

They increased their pace and made their way
down through the layers of the distant past. An archaeologist would
have gone crazy down here at what lay around each bend of the path
that they followed. They slipped by the hieroglyphics and finer
architecture of the past more concerned with staying alive than
enjoying the walk through history.

Talaric stopped abruptly. Something in the
mood of the place did not feel right. Their progress had been too
easy by far. By his calculations they were already on the lowest
level and they hadn’t seen a soul yet. Ronan pointed at something
on the ground up ahead and Talaric nodded as he saw it to. Someone
was lying on the path ahead and from the looks of it they were
dead.

They made their way to the fallen man trying
to be as invisible as they could, but the dim light bulbs that lit
the scene couldn’t be adequately hid from. Talaric kneeled beside
the man. The man had Egyptian features and was wearing a lupus blue
silk robe. This must have been one of the priests. His chest was
stained red from where he’d been shot at close range.

He had also been shot between the eyes,
which must have occurred sometime after death, because it hadn’t
bled much.

“He was shot!” Ronan asked skeptically
before glancing around.

Talaric nodded standing up.

“But by who?” Ronan asked.

“The competition, that’s who! They beat us
here!”

They continued on and they kept finding more
and more of the blue robed priests dead along the way. The cavern
seemed to open up and they left the architecture of the past behind
in favor of the natural rock strata of the land. Peering around a
corner Talaric saw what they’d come for, the temple of the serpent
queen.

The temple was built into the end of the
cavern and it was a sight to behold! The front of the temple was
dominated by two gigantic pillars that rose all the way to the
ceiling of the cavern.

They were painted a bright Crimson red and
reflected the light of the many brazen torch settings across the
front of the temple. More disturbing than the choice of the color
was what was on them. Huge giant cobras, one on each pillar coiled
sinuously up the columns to a height of thirty feet or more.

The snakes had to be made of solid gold,
because of the way that they glittered in the torchlight. A giant
brazen stature of a woman naked, except for a brief half sarong
around her waist stood between the pillars. Her skin was painted
red and the sarong was a lupus Azure blue, as was the color of her
bronze cast hair. Her hands rested about the necks of the two
cobras, which were flattened out in aggression with fangs bared, as
they faced out at the cavern.

The woman’s face was posed in an openly
erotic look of invitation. Her teeth sparkled, as if they were
faceted with diamonds and perhaps they were. Her eyes appeared as
gigantic blue sapphires and her eyebrows nose and ears were studded
with giant amethysts.

To walk into the temple one would have to
walk beneath her and in between her legs, which were splayed apart
wide in obvious symbolism.

It was the most gaudy sight either man had
ever encountered in life.

Ronan looked at Talaric concern written all
over his face, “We should not be here! This place is steeped in
evil!”

“Your right there my friend, but we have to
find what we came here for or perhaps destroy it depending on how
fast we have to get out of here. Come on.” Talaric said.

Ronan groaned and looked for a moment as if
he wouldn’t follow. The stairs leading in and out of the temple
beneath the self ascribed goddess were covered in people moving to
and fro quickly.