The Basingstoke Chronicles (20 page)

He prodded me on toward the river. Roars and hisses faded behind. Though exhausted, I
ran and ran until we reached water. The bed was steep, the channel more than thirty feet wide. No
choice but to swim. But it was
cold.
I gasped as I waded in, and again as I submerged.
Darkly slipped in behind me. His powerful stroke overtook mine in no time. He nestled up
against me, so I climbed onto his back. The roars and hisses resumed from the riverbank. I spun
to see seven or eight more bears lumbering toward the water's edge. A score of lizards were in
hot pursuit.

Was I still the quarry?

Darkly quickened his stroke. The other bears gathered at the bank and turned to face the
last of their enemies. As the lizards darted for the water--
their
element--the bears rose on
hind legs to bar them. The ferocious struggle spilled three bears into the water. A huge lizard
killed one bear in its jaws. Two more reptiles broke free and slithered into the river. With a last
ditch lunge, another bear sunk its claws into the hide of a submerged lizard, and dragged it back
ashore. One by one, a dozen more lizards fell under the bears' scything blows. The attackers
finally gave in and slunk away over the grassland. After watching their enemies flee, the six
victorious bears dipped into the water and followed us downstream.

I sighed and said, "God, please let that be--"

Darkly tipped me from his back and let out a deafening roar. Wash covered me
completely. I rose to see the great bear clamp his fangs around the neck of a surfacing lizard.
Spume and blood peppered the Kuti. Darkly gave no quarter. In moments, the writhing lizard
ceased its struggle, while the bear continued to shake the carcass like a deflated inner-tube. I
realized that was the last of them, the sly dragon that had sneaked underwater from the carnage
ashore.

The other bears caught up. I climbed on Darkly's back once more and clung even tighter.
Though shivering with the cold, I was reluctant to move. For I was on the shoulders of the
mightiest animal of Apterona. And there I stayed, all the way down Kuti River, to the shadow of
the great ziggurat.

A crescent moon lent barely enough light for me to see the river banks as Darkly and I
reached the Palace. The sharp sterns of two longboats jutted out across the water. They had been
dragged halfway ashore and left carelessly. This at least suggested my friends were safe, and for
that I gave a long, contented sigh.

By the time I slid from Darkly's back and squirmed ashore, he had carried me many
miles down the Kuti. What instinct compelled the bear to entwine my survival with his own?
What extraordinary lengths this animal had reached to protect a creature with whom it could not
even converse? Or was the communication by entirely different means, of which we humans are
scarcely aware?

Clearly the bond was utmost in the mind of the bear. He had, after all, whisked me to
safety when his comrades were greatly outnumbered. It became apparent to me that our first
encounter in the forest was more than mere chance. Had he ventured westward to meet me then?
Was his intervention this time born from a similar compulsion--a shared sense of danger? Either
way, no man ever had a more loyal friend.

It filled me with pride to see Darkly follow me ashore, his six companions in tow.
Though he was the largest, the other bears were not much smaller. Just one of them, alone, was
sufficient to make me feel safe; having seven bodyguards rendered me something of a celebrity.
It occurred to me that being without a title had actually increased my popularity through time.
Between the friends awaiting me at the Palace and my quadruped protectors here, I had never
been a richer man.

"OK, chaps, stay close. We've got to convince a Kamachej to leave."

At the foot of the ziggurat, a slight breeze made orange torch light dance across the
steps. Two palace guards leapt to block my way as we approached. I told them who I was and
insisted they alert Puma Pawq'ar to my presence.

"What of the beasts that follow you?" one of them asked. "What business have they
here?"

"Their business is my life, and contrary to yours, if you do not do what I say. So be quick
about it," I snapped.

As my voice rose, so did Darkly. His eight foot height did the trick. The impertinent
guard flew up the steps three at a time. I knew it would be folly to take the bears inside the
ziggurat so I waited, still dripping, until my friends appeared.

But they never did. I shivered for an age before I lost my patience. The solitary guard
also trembled, but not from the cold; the seven black behemoths proved too much for his resolve,
and rather than accost as we started up the stairs, he wisely made way for the convoy.

A voice stopped me at the golden arch.

"Welcome back, Lord Basingstoke. My son told me you were blessed with survival, but
even he gave you up for dead tonight. I am very pleased to see you alive."

It was Vichama Supay. The Kamachej himself had come to greet me. His kind words
were wonderful to hear, but there was still no sign of my friends.

"Thank you, your Majesty. I would not have escaped but for these magnificent animals
you see here. At their head is the bear to whom I owe my life many times over. Without doubt, he
is the greatest warrior in the land."

"Indeed he is! Come inside, my friends. All of you, come. The great bears from the east
have proven themselves our allies. Come, I will show you to a place where you can all find
warmth."

Surprised by his generosity, I followed him along the corridor which led to the garden of
red leaves and blue flowers. A nagging
déjà vu
accompanied me. Every
now and then, an angular engraving on the wall aroused my curiosity. According to the
time-traveler, this ziggurat was inspired by visitors from another world. I tried to imagine where their
influence ended and man's began. The bears seemed oblivious to their amazing surroundings. To
them, it was probably no more than a strange network of caves. While I marveled at the
magnificence, Darkly kept his eyes trained on me--a telling reminder of nature's contempt for
man's hubris.

There was still no sign of my friends. I thought it prudent to ask, "Your Majesty, where
are the others?"

"They will be with you presently. They have much to do."

"Then has Her Majesty explained the situation to you?"

"Yes, my friend. Do not worry. I have taken care of everything."

I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but it sounded reassuring. According to the old
time-traveler, Vichama Supay had visited the precognitive plants before us. He therefore knew a
disaster was imminent. Whether fire or water would destroy his kingdom it mattered not, for if he
wanted to live, he had no choice but to sail with the fleet.

He led us past the stone seat where I had first met Chasca Quilla, on through the
doorway opposite, and up three flights of steps to a square room with only one exit. The bears
filed inside without a sound. A medium-sized fire raged in the centre, inside an elaborately
perforated stone cube. As the rest of the room was dark, the flames' glow projected those shapes
carved in the cube as dancing silhouettes upon the walls. One depicted a bear on his hind legs;
one simply showed the face of the sun; another drew that ubiquitous line of right angles, which
had no practical usage, yet seemed to be an intrinsic part of this adventure. It was no less than the
fifth time I had come across it.

"My palace is yours," insisted the Kamachej. "I have many preparations to make before
we leave but shall return shortly with the others. In the meantime, make use of the blankets piled
in the far corner, and stay warm."

"Thank you kindly, your Majesty."

He left with his two torchbearers. As he turned, I glimpsed his peculiar face. It was far
less humorous than I recalled, and this time appeared harsh, resolute in the quivering glow.
Contrary to all I had been led to believe of his ancestry, Vichama Supay struck me as a noble
man who took his responsibilities seriously. There appeared no malice in him at all. For that I felt
a modicum of hope, for the people of Apterona would need a truly extraordinary leader in the
upcoming days.

The huge wooden door closed behind him. As I dragged seven cotton blankets around
the fire, a metallic click intrigued me toward the door. I found it was locked.

That's odd. I hope they don't take too long.

The bears were already at rest on the blankets. I stripped down to my underwear and
wrapped myself tight in an extra sheet, huddling next to Darkly as he lay flat on his stomach.
Despite the rather strong smell of wet bear, I was soon comfortable.

"Bet you never expected to get a room here, did you, boy?"

The bear twitched his snout and pricked his ears. He didn't take his eyes off the door for
an instant.

An intense scratching wrenched me awake. How long had I been out?

I had no way of telling. Many hours had passed, as the fire was barely aglow, but it felt
like only seconds since Vichama Supay had left.
Relativity! The old man's right--the
subconscious is a good analogy for time travel.

Darkly feverishly scratched at the door. He appeared to be testing for frailties around its
edges. No dice.
It'd take a battering ram.
I couldn't blame the fellow for trying,
though.

I wondered what could be keeping my friends so long. The Kamachej had sounded so
thorough. Surely he hadn't forgotten about me. And were the others not anxious to see me alive
after such an ordeal? As I sat there rocking under the warm blanket, calm while the bears grew
more impatient, I felt sure the door would be unbarred, flung wide at any moment.

Minutes passed. Orange embers peering through holes in the fire trough provided the
only light in the room. I decided to get dressed. Sodden when I had removed them, my jeans and
t-shirt were now only slightly damp, another clue I had been asleep for some time. I wore the
blanket as a cape.

As the bears began to growl, I started to worry. With time being such a crucial factor in
the exodus, I felt sure there could be only one explanation for me being left in here so long. The
Kamachej did not want me to escape.

The idea turned me inside out. Not only was I trapped in a stone cell, probably never
again to see daylight, the others would never know of my return. Worse still, perhaps
they
were imprisoned as well. The rumors I had heard about the Kamachej of old going
to any lengths to ensure no one ever left Apterona--those warnings I was quick to dismiss after a
few kind words from him--suddenly stung my pride. Vichama Supay had duped me with the
greatest of ease. More than that, he was prepared to see his whole civilization wiped out to
uphold an ancient edict.
What utter madness!

Pacing from wall to wall, I summoned every synapse in my brain to figure an escape.
When that failed, I pounded on the door alongside the bears. No reply. Claustrophobia tightened
around me, squeezed. To avert panic, I took a slow, giant breath and settled.

That's it, then.

A moment later, I insisted aloud, "No--that
is
it!"

It might otherwise not have occurred to me. After a fire burning for hours, where was all
the smoke? The room was clear. There had to be some sort of chimney or ventilation duct above
the fire! I surveyed the ceiling. There didn't appear to be a hole, so I folded four or five blankets
into thick wedges, positioned them on the rim of the fire and climbed up to inspect.

I was right. Lines of grid-like slits cut diagonally into the metal tile above, allowing the
smoke to escape into the higher chamber. There must have also been an ingenious manipulation
of the air flow through these rooms, as I felt a slight updraft through the grid, sufficient to
channel all fumes from the room.

The tile hardly budged as I lifted. I tried again, this time maintaining the pressure. The
thing finally lifted free and slid to one side. As Darkly came across to sniff my boots, I said, "Sit
tight, boy. It's time for me to save your hide,"

Hoisting myself up, I suddenly realized how difficult it was going to be. Not a torch on
the wall nor a fingertip of moonlight illumed the higher level. The room was utterly black, a
mystery!

All right, what now, Basingstoke?

The solution came swiftly. After all, I had but one useful sense at my disposal. Touch. I
inched across the stone floor on my hands and knees, icily alert, until I reached a wall. Tracing
this, I figured the room's dimensions were similar to those of my cell. I felt my way to where the
door ought to be, and was relieved to find an open space in the wall.

So far so good.

Following the room's perimeter from outside, ever to the left, I hoped I might come
across a flight of stairs. Now very cold indeed, I threw the blanket over my head for a hood,
gripping it tightly about my chest. My free hand trembled across the freezing wall. A stale odor
filled the air.

A first step...down.

I exhaled, shuddered. Where would this lead? After negotiating two short flights and
cornering once, I glimpsed a faint amber glow far down the corridor. It seemed ethereal, a
mirage, and I remained cautious.

The passage forked at the end of the corridor. A solitary, slow-burning torch lit this
junction from the left hand wall. I lifted it free, thanking Providence once again for its
intervention. But why had a light been left there, when the rest of the level was in total
darkness?

One branch turned right once before meeting an impressive staircase interspersed with
many platforms. The gradient was not steep, the flight a uniform ten feet across. After each dozen
or so steps, a flat stone area staggered the decline, each decorated by two exquisitely carved
statues. I paused at each and every platform. To my astonishment, the figures portrayed a
sequence.
They tell a tale.