Revelation (22 page)
Aaron understood, and began to help Braden search for anything resembling a journal. They tore through the remains of the second floor, careful to stay close to the outer wall. They found nothing but broken, aged relics of a time long ago.
Frustrated, they ventured to the third floor. Just as on the second floor, a large hole dominated the center of the platform. Jagged edges of wood, splintered by some unknown projectile, reached out like broken bones in the middle of the room. Unlike the floor below them, the two could navigate around the entire structure in relative safety. What they discovered on the third level startled them.
The remains of a dozen dwarves lay upon the floor. Some, it appeared, tried to run for the stairs while others seemed to be cast aside by a massive force that propelled them into the tower wall. The remains of four dwarves were piled, one next to the other, against the opposite wall from the stair, their bodies fractured and mangled. Though nothing but skeletons remained of the dwarf contingent, Aaron could envision the surprise and terror that must have struck those who now lay dead.
What amazed him even more was the lack of evidence that anyone else had been in the tower since the destruction of it centuries before. Dust settled upon everything, undisturbed over the years. Not one of the bodies showed the signs of looting and the entire scene seemed to say that once the tower guard fell, they were forgotten. Aaron took to the right and Braden to the left as they navigated around the circumference of the room. Hanging from hooks hammered into the stone wall, Aaron found a rack filled with dwarf armor, weapons, and other gear needed for a squad of soldiers. There were several selections of swords, most of them short with wide blades.
However, one did pique his interest. It was a longer sword, double-edged and perfectly balanced. Carved along the spine of the blade were ornate inscriptions that he could not read. The hilt was inlaid with gold weave, patterned like the branching of vines, with a green jewel imbedded in the pommel. It was sheathed in a leather scabbard, seemingly untouched by the centuries that had passed. It appeared to be made for a man, not a dwarf, and its belt was quite adequate for him. He couldn’t fathom why a sword of this make and design would be found in such a place, unlike as it was to all the other weapons that kept it company. However, he would not be unarmed and gratefully wrapped the belt around his waist and sheathed the weapon. It felt good to have a sword at his side again.
Aaron looked over to Braden, who had found three barrels, untouched by time or the destructive powers that shattered the tower. Each was a small, wooden cask that a man or dwarf could carry with little difficulty. The only marks of violence upon them were scratches where flying debris had run across the surface. One had been knocked over onto its side, but otherwise they were undamaged. Using his axe, he punched a hole into one of the barrels and from the crack a thick, dark liquid flowed out. It was the same draught that the dwarves used in his day, well preserved! He found two empty bottles and filled both with the liquid treasure. Ripping off some cloth from the hem of his cloak, he used the fabric as a make-shift cork, and gratefully placed the two bottles into the satchel he carried.
Together the two climbed to the top level of the tower. Here they discovered the greatest damage yet. The entire area looked as if a massive hammer fell upon a plate of glass. Only splinters remained where once a wooden floor had been. A massive hole in the center marked the place where a catapult stood. Ancient, fractured timbers mingled with great broken stones around the edge of the structure. The upper wall was broken in several places, and every piece of wood looked as if it had been scorched by a great fire. The platform looked far too treacherous to navigate around the outer edge, so Aaron and Braden simply stared at the destruction.
Where the stairs emptied onto the platform, they could see below to the river. It was far down, and their vantage point gave them an exceptional view of the entire canyon. To Aaron it looked like an ideal location to defend the waterway, with its twin tower looking at them from across the channel. He couldn’t imagine what weapon would have sent a projectile from the river to land on the center of the uppermost platform, and with enough force to crash all the way through to the ground level.
No river catapult could be massive enough to send a shot this high
, he thought. Aaron shook his head and turned back down the stairs. Braden, reluctantly, followed the captain.
They arrived at the ground level to find Lorik waiting for them, a huge grin on his face. Braden and Aaron walked over to him.
“Well, Sergeant,” Aaron asked, “what is it?”
“Captain,” Lorik said with amazement, “you need to come and see this!”
“Before we go,” said Aaron, “I want you to go to the second level of the tower and find yourself a weapon. There are some hanging on the wall… several swords and axes, as well as pikes, spears and a variety of other artifacts. Be quick and we’ll follow you.”
“That won’t be necessary, Captain… wait till you see.” Lorik walked out the door, with Braden and Aaron close behind. He turned to the right and followed the wall of the tower around until he found a small, hidden trail leading away. It meandered for several yards, and took the men to a wall of rock, covered over with brush. Lorik moved the brush aside and revealed the faint outline of a door carefully carved and formed to look like the rock face. Lorik grabbed a small indentation on the stone, using it as a handle, and pulled the ancient door open. Within the hidden chamber they saw the glint of steel, gold and silver--a vast cavern filled with indescribable treasure. Swords, shields, and other assorted armament of various sizes lined the outer walls, while in the center were vast piles of trays, goblets, and chests filled with jewels and gold. Cloaks, as well, hung from pegs along the walls, untouched by time.
“How is this possible?” Aaron asked in amazement. “How could these things endure the ravages of time?”
“It is said that my people, long ago, possessed the powers of the elements.” Braden answered. “You had a glimpse of it when Garam brought fire to wood. At the peak of our civilization, the dwarf masters could use these skills to make rooms such as this where the passage of time does not corrode or spoil any artifact. They used it to carefully preserve many of our greatest treasures.” The dwarf looked around at the vast store. “I think we are looking upon some of those items even now.” He reached down and patted the ancient blade that hung on his side.
Aaron was amazed at how much wealth was found in the dwarves vault. “How is it, then, that this treasure was so easily hidden? I would imagine that someone by now would have entered this area and discovered what Lorik has found.”
“The old wisdom gave my people the capacity to create places of hiding as well. I can only guess that over the centuries, the ancient power of the dwarves has faded,” Braden said. “That is probably why Lorik was able to find it so easily when it had remained hidden for so long. Besides,” he said, “I doubt that anyone has been up here for centuries.”
The three companions entered the massive vault and began examining the treasure. Great coats of armor, cloaks, and shields of every size hung carefully against the walls. Many were plain, unadorned with any markings. Some, however, were gilded with intricate designs of trees, swords, crowns and castles. The swords were all of excellent quality, with well kept scabbards. Lorik found one to his liking and strapped it on his waist. Aaron, as well, donned a lightly woven chain-mail jerkin and cloak with the markings of a massive oak tree, vines of ivy twisting around it and a seven-jeweled crown hovering over it.
Braden discovered a wealth of available resources as much of the treasure was built by and for the dwarves. He collected two carved throwing knives, a helmet inlaid with gold. He also found a breastplate of metal, light and easily worn under his cloak. It was ornate, well-crafted and boasted a design of an axe and hammer crossed over the chest. Aaron and Lorik looked at their companion and no longer saw Braden as before, he now looked every much the part of a stout, courageous warrior.
“Braden,” Aaron said.
“Yes.”
“You mentioned before about the gold thread woven into the beards of your people. Who presented such markings to them?”
Braden pondered the question for a moment. “Well,” he said, “when a warrior had come of age and showed his courage, his father normally presented the gold thread during a time of celebration. And, if the father was not alive, his commander often took the role. Why?”
Aaron motioned for Lorik to stand by his side. Then both men stood in front of Braden. “For years,” Aaron said, “you were branded a coward by your people yet denied the opportunity to change.” Aaron reached into his pocket. “Over these many days, not only have you shown your courage, you have demonstrated the highest quality of any warrior or soldier I’ve had the privilege of serving with.” He pulled out the thin, gold cord. “I don’t know what type of ceremony is necessary, but I do know you have proved to me that you deserve to wear this.” He handed the symbol of courage to Braden.
The dwarf slowly reached his hands out and took the proffered item. “Captain,” he said as his voice wavered. “I… I don’t know what to say. You honor me far more than is my right.”
“My friend,” Lorik said. “It takes great courage, maybe even greater courage, to acknowledge a failure and try to overcome it.” He stepped up to Braden. “If this gold weave is a symbol of courage, I can think of no one more suited to wear it than you.”
Braden smiled and tied the thread into his beard, twisting the gold and crimson strand so that it wove its way from his chin to the tip of his whiskers. His eyes filled with pride, he looked up at Aaron. “You honor me, Captain, and even now I feel that my disgrace is taken away.”
“Now,” Aaron said, “I think it’s time we move on from here. We have a long, hard march ahead of us through some very rugged terrain.” Lorik and Braden nodded their agreement and all three stocked up for the expedition.
Having gathered all they could reasonably carry, they carefully set brush and debris at the entrance in order to hide the doorway. Then, looking at the long journey before them, they set out for the mountain pass. With the day nearly half over, the sun riding high in the noonday sky, Aaron, Lorik, and Braden began their arduous, upward climb. Though the air was chilled with the last trailing of winter, the scene was quiet, serene and possessed an eerie tranquility.
Aaron occasionally peered into the sky, gazing through the expanse. “I wonder,” he said, “if we’ve seen the last of that flying demon.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Lorik.
“Well,” the captain continued, “we’re drawing closer to their lair. It seems likely that we might meet up with that creature again… or one that’s like it.”
“It does seem a bit too, well, easy,” Lorik interjected.
Braden looked at the sergeant with bewilderment. “You have a funny sense of easy!” he exclaimed. “If these past few weeks have been easy, I’m not looking forward to what you might call difficult.”
“Lorik’s right,” Aaron said. “If this mountain pass leads directly to the deladrin’s stronghold, why not guard it?”
Braden shook his head. “Don’t worry… I’m sure that we will have our fill of them before this adventure is over.”
The rugged pass proved far more daunting than they first imagined. The path, carved into the granite mountainside, followed the edge of a precipice as it meandered into the snowy peaks. High above, but much closer than Lorik or Aaron had ever experienced, fluffy white clouds drifted casually in the brilliant blue sky. All around echoed the noises of the mountains and a chilling wind blew through the many canyons.
Step by step they labored, sometimes having to climb hand and foot just to keep moving. Lorik and Aaron suffered from exhaustion, muscles burning in rebellion against the steep, narrow path. Braden, however, proved why dwarves lived in the mountains. He clambered along the precipitous path without a hint of weariness, showing the dexterity of a mountain goat upon the rocky heights.
Aaron looked up to see Braden far ahead of them, stopped on a narrow ledge to wait, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed out over the vast expanse of the southern reaches of Celedon. In the distance he saw the shimmering waters of the Inland Sea. It’s vast, ocean-like expanse merely a drop of water on the world. Green prairies and spreading forests covered rolling hills as rivers twisted their channels through the contours.
“I’m glad you finally waited!” puffed Lorik as he scrambled onto the ledge with Braden. Behind him Aaron silently climbed until he also arrived at the small landing.
“I thought about leaving you behind,” Braden quipped as he reached into the satchel. Removing one of the bottles, he pulled the cloth from the neck and took a drink of the revitalizing liquid.
“So,” Aaron remarked, “that’s your secret.” The captain reached for the decanter as Braden handed it to him. The warm, restorative drink did much to sooth their aching muscles from the long, grueling climb. As much as Aaron wanted to enjoy a moment’s rest, he knew they needed to press as far as possible before nightfall. “Let’s go,” was all he said as he stood and began to climb again.
After several hours the path leveled out, crossing a high plateau between two handsome spires of rock. The sun had dropped below the mountains, leaving the high pass in shadows as the sky above slowly faded toward night. It was here that Aaron mentioned a rest, and Lorik heartily agreed. Even Braden had finally reached his limit, though the delight of being in the mountains still shone in his eyes.
The three set camp in a crevice that paralleled their path along the mountain. It was small, crowded for three, but provided shelter from the blustering winds as well as any prying eyes. The mountain air felt clean and crisp. Several patches of snow remained on their path. But the snow had not found its way into the small culvert where they now rested. To the west the sun sneaked out from behind a mountain peak, momentarily bathing the three companions in a brilliant orange and purple shower of light, a last gasp of daylight before Celedon rested in darkness.