Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (91 page)

BOOK: Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls
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Finally Rema spoke.

‘I am glad I came Refr. Much has come to pass which I do not understand. I have witnessed events which I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand. We have both lost much, and then in the end perhaps gained some things as well. I will leave you with this.’

Rema took from around his neck, the small whale bone sword which Refr himself had carved and asked to be given him if ever he returned unexpected to the Faero Islands. Refr was deeply moved to see it once more.

‘You shall keep it now, Refr my brother,’ said Rema with great emotion, ‘It will remind you that in the end we did find each other. I wish many things could be different, but life is not that way ordered. I am happy to see that you are restored within, that your heart now seems right. This will comfort me greatly in the future. So I leave you in peace.’

And with that he left. He had seen all he needed to see, and knew all he needed to know. They did not request he stay further, for the time they had shared seemed exactly right. Rema left and did not look back, and within two days was back once more on the mainland where he turned his head north to the mountains. The highlands beckoned strongly now and it was a call too long avoided.

Rema Bowman was going home.

 

*

 

He cantered swiftly through verdant grasslands toward the Barrier Mountains which loomed impressively to the northwest.  His mare was very willing after a few days rest and pulled hard at the reins as though anxious to please, so good progress was made towards the enormous Central Upthrust which lay just over the horizon, drawing him on. The weather was mild and the hunting good. Huge herds of wild Aledope deer seemed to constantly spring up from the long grass and race off in great agitation as he passed. He ate well and camped each night by clear streams under skies which held countless stars so bright that they seemed close enough to touch. He was alone in a beautiful land and he loved it deeply.

Rema felt at peace for the first time in a very long while.

On the fourth day he rode down out of the Rolling Hills and met the Swifft River which further east met the Luminos in a massive bog and marsh land, but this far up it was well named for it flowed smooth, fast and clear with hardly a ripple, so that it held beautiful reflections of all colours.  Rema followed it north until the massive Upthrust appeared before him.  Two days later he rode into the gorge which the river had slowly cut out of the rock over the ages, till finally he could go no further. He knew that no man had ever climbed these cliffs for they were sheer and smooth, but he also knew that long before men entered Revelyn the mountain dwarves had built a pathway in this very gorge which allowed them easy travel from highland to lowland and to other places deep within the mountains, for they loved to tunnel. The knowledge of the path had passed to men but it had been lost half an age before such that only the vaguest stories still told of it. But Rema had a clue which no other had ever possessed. He was sure that the polished black marble key which El-Arathor had left him was the key to opening the pathway, an entrance into the cliffs just like the gates to AlGiron.

He camped in the deep shadows of the Swifft River Gorge, several leagues short of the mighty waterfall which marked the river’s plunge from the highlands far above to its new journey in the lowlands, and there he planned his search.

It took longer than he had hoped, for the cliffs seemed reluctant to reveal their secret. Five days Rema searched, always in high spirits, believing that he would succeed, but by the end he was weary and losing hope. From the waterfall on both sides of the river he had explored every cleft and cave for many leagues. He found strange carvings and many ancient markings in a language lost to all knowledge. The mark of the dwarves however was always close by, for none other had mastered the art of hewing rock so smoothly such that even a simple well or cave dwelling seemed more work of art than function.

Rema looked for black marble. The key in which he placed all his hope was made of this so beautiful a material. He thought that if he could only find a vein of marble, just the merest hint or trace, it would stand out clearly against the common rocks which abounded.

In the end his guess was true. On the sixth day not far from where he had first camped he found a pillar of black marble by the river on the east side, which passed not ten paces from the sheer wall of the gorge. He had looked till then only at the massive cliffs, not thinking that the secret might lie some distance off. By chance, the sun and spray and an accidental stumble solved the mystery, for suddenly as he steadied himself he spied the shiny pillar gleaming by the water. In a trice he was examining it, and sure enough at its top, the height of a dwarf axe above the ground, he found what he had long searched for. Three small holes, equidistant apart, together forming the corners of a triangle.

His heart leapt then for he knew that this exact pattern was matched by his key. Carefully he took it from his tunic and placed it over the holes. He gave a cry of triumph.

‘At last, it is solved!’ He pumped the air with a fist and enjoyed the feeling that his guesswork had proven true.

Within a span he had broken camp and in great anticipation led his faithful horse back to the spot where a new marvel was about to appear.

 

Three short protrusions on the key fitted perfectly into the holes on the polished pillar of black marble. He inserted the key and waited, turning back to the nearby cliffs in eager expectation. He did not have to wait long.

The smooth rock gave a gentle crack, as though an egg held too hard had fractured. An outline of a door appeared, five cubits high and three in width. As he watched, the rock within this line turned a whiter grey and shone dully as some deep dwarf magic worked. Without a sound, when all was ready, the door swung inwards on some massive hinge and there before Rema was a dark passage leading into the mountain. He was reminded of the gates into AlGiron and so he was not afraid, for the Mountain dwarves built fearfully well.

His horse was of a different mind and took great encouragement to enter so small and dark a passage, but once in was easily led. The mighty rock door swung shut only after Rema found a matching key hole within the passage and used his polished marble key once more. The dark was not complete for the passage like the Gates to AlGiron was but thirty paces in length and then opened into a circular shaft which reached up into the mountain above. This passage did not reach up in a manner which revealed the sky above and Rema realised that light entered by horizontal shafts cut out to the cliff face at regular intervals. The circular path around the shaft however was not as high as he had had experienced in AlGiron, for those gates, although built by dwarves were for the use of the
Edenwhood
who stood far taller than any man. His horse was sorely tested in climbing this path and Rema himself bumped his head with a curse often enough.

They travelled as fast as Rema thought safe, which was not as great as he wanted for the path was narrow and he worried that the horse would stumble and fall into the shaft. The air was pure enough for the light shafts allowed a steady breeze to enter and bats abounded, small colonies in every one. About half way up after many dizzy turns around the shaft, with aching legs and an increasingly nervous horse which now sensed the great height to its unprotected side, they encountered another shaft, huge and black, which ran off into the mountain.

Rema felt a shiver as he passed it, and some deep instinct brought a dark fear to his mind. He felt the hairs on his neck and arms stand erect as though in warning. His horse was suddenly terrified for the smell of it had drifted deep into this new tunnel drawn down by an air current which was swift and unopposed.

‘Quickly now,’ Rema encouraged his mount to keep going knowing that some fell creature had learnt of their presence. ‘Keep calm,’ he whispered but his soothing words were no use and the horse whinnied loudly and tried to buck which brought its head into rough contact with the roof above it. By some miracle Rema was able to keep it standing and in a flash of inspiration took off the top of his tunic and held it over the head of the tormented horse. Unable to see, it went quiet and became obedient once more and Rema was able to slowly lead it on, two circles of the shaft and a little higher before he was aware that they were not alone. A strange sound of a huge creature panting heavily came to him now.

He knew he could not travel any faster and in the end he must sacrifice the horse, but he was not about to do so without some resistance. The dark passage was below him but not yet out of sight. The darkness within it seemed to boil and a foul stench reached out to him against the rushing air.

In a moment he had his bow drawn and judging as best he could in the dull light sent three arrows in quick succession into the shaft. They struck something huge and not easily moved, for each arrow brought a cry of discomfort, and then silence for a moment. Suddenly the arrows reappeared, thrown back as though plucked out as mere irritation. They fell, end over end into the blackness below. Rema knew then that he was defenceless; all he could do was flee.

He urged the horse on, whacking its flank with a balled fist. They hastened upward but down below whatever sought them was not deterred for long. Rema finally stood well above the evil shaft and once more drew his bow. Again in desperation as his mind quickened to save them he had another idea and wrapping a torn rag around the end of an arrow he waited. In horror he saw a huge limb with evil claws reach out and feel the circular path on which they had just passed by. The limb was long and another followed, and it too reached out and up and all about, even reaching across the sheer drop to the far side. It was clear to Rema that every point of refuge was no longer safe should this fell beast come out into the vertical shaft.

He saw however that the limbs were covered in a thin mat of dry hair, and this would be his only hope. Perhaps the beast did not like light, and fire was always a useful weapon.

He used his flint and instantly the rag on his arrowhead burned brightly. The creature seemed to sense it, and paused. Rema did not wait but shot his arrow into the hairiest limb. The creature recoiled in pain but little else, as though stung by a wasp, no more. But the fire caught on the dry hair and sizzled and burnt quickly. The beast screamed in fear and disappeared back into its lair. The foul smell of it rose to Rema and he tried hard not to take it in.

He prepared another arrow but it was not needed. The creature did not return and so propelled by the fear of what lurked below, the man and beast went on up as fast as they dared until with daylight fading rapidly they reached the top where Rema discovered an identical key hole. In moments another door hewn in the side of a large rocky outcrop had released them into a most beautiful highland twilight. Rema searched and this time easily found the key hole outside the door, built in the rock face itself, next to the hidden hinge. No sooner had the door swung silently shut and disappeared, than he heard from within a scream of frustration and several thumps which reverberated through the ground on which they stood. His horse bucked violently, and now without a roof to hold it down stood high upon its rear legs, eyes white and wide, whinnying in terror.

In a sudden sweat of fear Rema realised that the fell creature had silently stalked them, and they had only escaped by the barest margin. He shivered involuntarily then before struggling to calm his nervous mount.

When they were both breathing more easily he led the horse back to the edge of the mighty cliffs and looked out south down the massive gorge cut by the Swifft River over the ages. In the far distance Rema could see the Rolling Hills below the Barrier Mountains and then the land was lost in a haze of fading light.

I am almost home
he thought, and the feeling which followed embraced him wonderfully.

 

*

 

He reached the town of
Ashe
two days later and was now in familiar territory for this was the largest of the Highland towns except for
Farview
which had overtaken it some score years before. His parents had brought him down from the Mighty Mountains to
Ashe
several times in his childhood and it remained a place of wonder for it was so much bigger than the small town of
The Safeness
which was his home, higher up and further north under Algehorn, the mightiest of all mountains in Revelyn.

He purchased a few gifts for his parents here, knowing what they liked and were unable to obtain in
The Safeness
. His mother loved the sweet perfume of the Ildress flowers, which grew only in the East Ridge Mountains close by Ramos in the Lowlands. He took two glazed jars filled with the essence for her. He knew his father would be building bows, as he had done for forty years, and always needed sabrecat gut for strings. Rema brought a considerable amount, and so laden, he headed up into the Mighty Mountains where the magic of the great peaks and clear air and icy water began to welcome him in a manner which no other place was able.

As he travelled his spirits rose. There was peace here and so much beauty. Life was hard, but for the careful it rewarded in ways which were impossible to understand unless you had experienced it as a child and into adulthood.

He passed through familiar villages now and in one,
Highton
, by chance he met his uncle, his father’s brother.

‘Rema, we have long wondered when we would see you again. Off on some adventure? Where is that lovely girl, the one you brought to meet us... Sylvion that was her name...’

And Rema thought...
was

how true
, and it brought a sudden pang of loneliness to his heart.

‘She became the queen of Revelyn, Uncle Deamir,’ Rema answered sadly. His relative stood bemused and scratched his head as though trying to work out if his nephew was serious or simply saying in a roundabout way that they had parted. Rema did not feel like speaking further on the matter so they talked a while of different things, and parted with him promising to pass on best wishes to his father.

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