Chapter 11

Grey came the morning, and all woke to the smell of breakfast cooking on the fire—all except for young Dannadar, who remained yet in a deep slumber for at least an hour after the others arose and quietly broke their fast. Fifin, who had slept beside the disturbed Elfling, and Alatar, who had taken the first watch, had heard Dannadar quietly whimpering in his sleep with many tossings and turnings, but these abated by mid of night and not the slightest peep was heard from him till he awoke at about half past eight.
      All eyes were on the poor lad as he stumbled groggily to the fire, for they feared he may be under some spell or otherwise adversely affected by his experience of the previous night. Yet, once he had devoured the remains of breakfast and gulped down his tea he seemed lucid enough, if exceptionally tired, and he complained of having had a long night of lurid nightmares, each one following right upon the tail of another.
      Raavan asked cautiously if the Elfling could recall the events of the previous night, but all Dannadar could remember before the nightmares began was sneaking off into the blackness to better hear the voices of the Nara. Raavan thought it best not to pursue the subject further and the rest of the company followed his example.
      As everyone seemed more or less fit for travel they soon mounted up and began the final leg of their journey. They reached and forded the River Ceredil just before noon and shortly thereafter they arrived at the entrance to the Vale of Ilyon. This valley ran north from the point where the Ceredil emerged from the Greywalls up to the very gates of Ilimath, now some thirty miles away.
      They decided to stop here for a brief rest. As they had their lunch all in the party were relieved to see that Dannadar had finally come fully awake and had even regained some of his humour. Nevertheless, the mood of the company was dulled considerably by the knowledge that their arrival at Ilimath was now almost imminent.
      After lunch they entered the Vale of Ilyon. This they found to be rather steep-walled, and also noisy on account of the thundering river at hand which fell over numerous falls on its journey south. Their path was a rocky road that took them sometimes close to the rushing water, sometimes higher up on the forested mountainside, but always it stayed within that valley and ever it led them toward the north.
      Though the road had once been smooth and very well-maintained it had long since fallen into disrepair, and so there were many large boulders and rock-slides that had fallen across the way. Yet, these were mostly easy to ride around and only once or twice were they forced to dismount and lead their steeds over and about the fallen debris.
      Several hawks were seen soaring the length of the vale, gliding effortlessly beneath the high clouds. Of these Airi kept a close watch. The occasional vulture or crow was also seen, but these were largely ignored by the sharp-eyed owl. Late in the day he flew from Raavan’s shoulder to a snag some ways ahead down by the water to hunt for fish, but the bird had no luck and eventually had to make do with a mouse and a tiny lizard which he snatched from the rocky bank a bit further upstream.
      ‘What will Airi do when we go into Ilimath?’ asked Talen. ‘Will he stay outside with the ponies?’
      ‘No, he will remain with us,’ was the wizard’s reply. ‘He does not like to leave my side, and I would actually prefer to have him with me in that place—owls can see in the dark, so he may be very valuable to us in there.’
      ‘O, of course,’ replied Talen. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
      As evening approached and they rounded a sharp bend in the valley, suddenly into view hove an astonishing sight for those who had never before seen it: a very high and pointy mountain thrust itself up rudely into the evening sky, its sharp peaks white with snow and appearing as jagged fangs which would puncture the overhanging firmament.
      The party halted and some of them drew a sharp breath, for the sight was awesome to behold. As they stood there looking in silence at the ominous Mount Ceredh the sun began to set far in the west, and the evening rays which it cast onto the mount caused it to be tinged with red so that those fangs appeared stained with blood. The party blenched to see this, for some of them took it to be an ill omen that they should arrive at this time to see the mountain looking so.
      Raavan and Alatar urged them on, for night was falling fast and they needed yet to find a suitable spot to camp. It was Raavan’s wish that they camp near to the front gate of Ilimath and enter it in the morning, and that seemed reasonable to them all, as the morning’s sunshine might bolster their spirits. Perhaps in that way it would be easier for them to enter that dark place knowing that the pleasant sunlight was not very far away, however black it may be inside the ancient Dwarven halls.
      And so they continued, and as they neared the mount and as the light continued to dim they saw that the mountain threw great arms about them to either side. In this way it resembled an enormous high-backed chair or a throne. This again gave the wide-eyed Elflings a chill, for were it to be a throne to anyone it seemed most fitting given its ominous appearance that it would be a throne to some immense, tyrannical giant. Talen imagined a colossal black figure, masked yet still hideous, sitting in such a throne as this and looking out over all the distant lands as they were his dominion, or perhaps planning their bloody conquest, commanding his vast armies as they marched on the free lands and wrought their deadly havoc. The image was difficult to shake and it stayed with him for the remainder of the evening.
      Some time after dark they reached a broad open space not far from the side of the mountain, which, were it light enough for them to see it, fairly towered overhead. To the left and the right were stone steps which curved away toward the north, each flanked on one side by a sheer rocky wall rising straight up and on the other by a modest drop to grassy areas below. The river had some ways back turned west to skirt the great mountain and here they had forded the shallow watercourse a second time in order to follow the more easterly road.
      Raavan now led the party to a flat, dry place below the eastern stair where they might find comfortable places to bed, and here they built up a large fire and had their supper. There was little talk and soon they all bedded down, though sleep was a long time coming for some of them, even those for which it was not their turn at watch.
      They kept guard in pairs that night, for being so close to Ilimath they could not be sure that Troells or other creatures would not slink out of their dens in the night. Of course, they thought it wise to be prepared for such even if Raavan said it was not terribly likely, and so they all kept their weapons close at hand as they slept.
      In the very early morning they arose and again had a quiet meal. They then packed up their things and prepared to ascend the stone stairs. The light was yet very dim and the air was humid. In the distance they could still hear the mighty rush of the River Ceredil.
      The Elflings were very nervous and the others too were on edge, for though there had been no encounters in the night, still they were not certain what they might meet inside the gates of the ancient Dwarvenholt. Yet, it was felt by the more experienced among them that whatever they happened to meet inside the gates it would be a good indication of what they were likely to encounter during the rest of their quest in that dark place, and this would determine how difficult their task would be. Whatever lay in store for them it was not long before they would find out, yet the anxious waiting weighed heavily upon them all.
      Up the western stair they went. After passing beneath the ancient oak that grew there they made the easy ascent beside the sheer stone wall that rose up on their right. The drop on their left grew more steep with every step they took, but as the stair was very wide there was little danger of a fall so long as they all kept a respectful distance from the ledge. The stairs were very old, and just as had been the road below they were in obvious disrepair. Talen wondered how waggons could have travelled this way, but Burak had pointed out to them a place some distance back where the road had likely branched off at one time before reaching the stairs, and the Elfling supposed that that was the way for waggons and that theirs was the way for foot travellers.
      In time the rock wall on their right diminished to nothing and their way turned to merge with the eastern stair, both of them joining at the head of a broad road that led straight toward the sheer side of the mountain. They now saw that they had come at long last to the very gates of Ilimath, for before them rose a massive pair of black iron doors nearly wide enough for the entire party to ride in side-by-side and nearly tall enough for a giant to amble through without needing to hang his head. The doors were most of the way closed though the right door hung on hinges which had been damaged some time ago, so that a crack between the two doors gaped large enough for a man to walk easily through.
      ‘Well,’ said Dannadar when they had ridden up to the gates and stopped quietly before them, ‘it looks like we’re here, finally. Who gets to go first?’
       
       
      They did not enter the gates immediately, for the first order of business was finding a place to tether their steeds. There was some concern that their business inside Ilimath might take more than one day, so they tethered the animals with as much rope as they could spare and still have a good length with them in case it proved useful inside the Dwarvenholt. They put the animals in the grassy field west of the gate and judged that they would be quite satisfied with the grazing available to them there.
      The sun was rising far to the east and it illuminated the nearby peaks which rose high enough to catch it, though it was not yet risen high enough to shine down over the arms of Mount Ceredh, which shielded the party’s view to the east and the west. All about them the humid air was starting faintly to glimmer as a thin fog began to rise from the dew-soaked grass. The Elflings took one last look around them, for they knew this may be their last sight of daylight for many long hours, perhaps even days.
      Eventually the time came for them to venture forth into the dark halls that lay before them. They all had their weapons at the ready and Raavan, Alatar, and Burak also lit torches. Raavan went first, followed by Alatar, then the Elflings with Burak bringing up the rear. They stepped softly through the doorway, those having torches holding them aloft, and then this is what they saw:
      They were in a wide chamber, tall with smooth black walls and a high ceiling far overhead, and it all appeared to be made of granite. The floor was paved with tight-fitting flagstones and would have been smooth as well except for the copious debris which lay everywhere. Near the doorway were piles of leaves which had blown in, and elsewhere there were piles of other junk, mainly rocks and bones and little bits of iron and leather and the like: the remains of broken weapons and torn clothes, all rusty or mouldy and covered over with a thick layer of dust and fallen cobwebs. The odd rusty iron chain was seen draped over piles of junk or hanging from rings set in the walls or from the ceiling, and an unbroken shield or sword was here and there identifiable among the rubble and remains.
      They paused only briefly to take it all in and allow their eyes to adjust to the dim light, and then in they went, wading through the detritus, with many a rustle and a crack! and a good many other sounds as well, for no matter where they stepped there was something underfoot, and thus no matter how quietly they all tried to walk, still they made enough noise to fairly wake the dead.
      They made for the large, open doorway on the far side of the chamber. Though the room was very wide it was not very long, so that their torchlight lit up the doorway for which they were making and showed at least that the chamber beyond was quite a bit larger than this one.
      As they passed into the larger chamber they saw that its floor was rather less littered with debris, though still thick with dust, and the cobwebs were again much in evidence almost everywhere they looked. If it seemed that everything had now become very quiet it was only because they were no longer crunching things underfoot, for they had not yet heard a single sound in that place but that had been made by themselves.
      When they all were just inside the hall they stopped to take a look with their torches held aloft. They now could see that the hall was very large indeed, though they still could not see the far end, so distant was it. Talen took out his glowing crystal, adding significantly to the light thrown by the torches, and now they saw that this great hall consisted of two levels. The companions stood on the upper level, where a wide shelf wrapped around all the walls and a pair of catwalks stretched across the open area in the middle. Tall stone columns rose from the lower floor all the way up to the ceiling high above. To either side were gaping doorways opening wide onto staircases that spiraled down to the floor below.
      All round the outside were set charcoal braziers which it was suggested they might ignite, there being found usable charcoal in several of them, and thereby light up the rest of the hall so that they might see it the better. However, Raavan was firmly against their doing this, for it would announce their presence to anyone or anything which might pass through while the party was exploring the further reaches of the Dwarvenholt and might then lay in wait for them till the party returned.
      It was then that Raavan began to gaze curiously at the floor, for in many places the dust had been fairly recently disturbed. He began to walk about very slowly with the torch, looking carefully for any discernible footprints. Soon they were all joining in this game, kneeling awkwardly and holding their heads at odd angles to catch the shine of the polished stone floor reflecting from their fellows’ torches.
      Before long they all had trampled through so much of the undisturbed areas that it was no longer possible to tell which were the marks due to their own movements and which had been there before. Fortunately, Raavan and Alatar had done enough quick searching before the rest of the company got involved that they could be quite certain there was a trail of disturbed dust running from the entrance down the length of this chamber. Across at least one of the catwalks and on through the further doorway the trail led, though no distinct footprints were seen and indeed whether the dust had been disturbed in the last day or in the last week they could not be sure. At the very least they knew that other persons or person-sized creatures had been about the place recently and so might turn up again at any time. It was enough to prompt the Elflings to nock arrows against bowstrings and for the others to tighten the grips on their various weapons.
      When they spoke they did so very quietly, for they were much impressed by the silence which pervaded this dark place. At first the silence was in some measure reassuring, for it was clear now that at least these first few chambers were not teeming with hordes of howling beasts. But soon it began to ride on their nerves, for they all saw the way Raavan remained suspicious and alert and they began to consider that any foe that may be about might be watching them at unawares, peeping round dark corners or through tiny cracks, and already the place seemed so large that they had little hope of seeking out all such possible hiding places in order to secure any area they might wish to explore. So they went about very carefully and as quietly as they might, with weapons ever at the ready and eyes searching the darkness, ears sifting the silence, for even any hint of a threat.
      In this manner they made their way to one of the two large doorways that led out the far side of the great hall. As they left the hall behind Burak quietly informed them that this place had once been a market commons when the Aradrim lived there, though the enemy which later conquered the Dwarvenholt might have used the chamber for purposes unimagined.
      Beyond the portal was a broad hallway which stretched east to west and which had at least several other passages branching off of it. This main hallway stretched beyond the reach of their torchlight in both directions and at first they merely stood there looking back and forth, this way and that, realising then that they had had no clear idea what part of Ilimath they would target for their search. Raavan and Alatar began quietly to confer with Burak on the matter.
      ‘I remember that Mythron’s laboratory had been discovered within a stone tower that was built inside a cavern,’ said Raavan. ‘It appeared to have been some sort of royal palace or other and apparently Mythron found the accommodations to his liking.’
      ‘The Citadel of Tuairísi,’ said Burak confidently. ‘That is where the later kings dwelled.’
      ‘Do you know the way?’ asked Alatar.
      ‘The citadel should be located at the very top of the Stairs of Ukurond, which begin on the ground level and branch out repeatedly into side passages,’ replied the Dwarf. ‘Precisely where the Stairs are located I do not know, though the citadel itself was said to have lain somewhere in the western part of Ilimath.’
      ‘Then we shall go west,’ said Raavan, and so they did. Down the wide corridor they went, and though the walls were draped thick with cobwebs the floor was mostly clear of dust except at the very edges, again reminding them that other feet had trod that way in the not-too-distant past, and perhaps many feet at that.
      Off of that hallway were many passages branching to the right, some of them opening into rooms, others continuing on for some distance and in several cases forming corridors that themselves branched again. However, they did not explore any of these for the moment, but continued travelling west, for this was the simplest plan they could conceive and at present it created no problems.
      Eventually, however, the hallway ceased its westward expansion and turned rather abruptly round a corner to the north. Around this corner the company went, for they still had little notion of their desired route except that they wished to be travelling more or less toward the west.
      Fortunately there was a Dwarf among them, for Dwarves know nearly at all times which way lie the cardinal directions, at least when they are underground, and so Burak acted as their compass as well as their source of Dwarven lore and he was the nearest thing to a tour guide they could have found for that place.
      Nevertheless, they still were at a loss as they followed the passage north, for now the hallway branched off into corridors on either side and they had no idea which of these it might be best to follow. They tried several that branched off westward, but most of these ended in small, dusty rooms. The remainder either branched into north-south passageways or curved sharply round and thence opened into one or more vacant rooms, sometimes with doorways leading into yet other small chambers adjacent to these.
      A bewildering maze began to form about them. They quickly decided that the best thing would be to make their way back to the main passage in search of a prominent corridor branching off to either side, for it made sense to them that the route to the citadel would follow grander passages than these and would likely be more direct. Burak largely agreed with this logic, though he found it necessary to remind them all that Ilimath was a very ancient Kâlandelf, and also that because Dwarves do not easily become confused underground they do not architect their designs with the same simplicity as might men or Elflings.
      Before turning back they took time to briefly inspect the floors of the rooms they had visited. In some of these they found what appeared to be human footprints, yet not of the companions’ making, for they had not yet trod into those places but had only looked in at the doorways. The footprints were certainly recent and the thought of a possible spy having raced them here from Aberlaven remained fresh in their minds as they continued their search for the citadel.
      Burak led them all back to the main passage branching off from the ‘marketplace’ as they called it, and they then began to walk patiently along it, peering less briefly now down each side passage that led off from the main way. A particularly wide hallway heading north piqued their interest, and they decided to try it.
      They had gone only thirty feet before the character of this new passage began to change considerably, and for the better. Whereas all the passages had up till now been roughly hewn of black or grey stone, monotonously rectangular and entirely unadorned, they were now in an area which was constructed of smooth brown flags of varying size and shape, all fit together with great care and precision and with carven designs to embellish the edges of the floor and arched ceiling. Every twenty-five feet or so there was a stone candelabrum jutting out neatly from the left wall, each with an unlit torch mounted in it. Alatar judged that the torches had been burned sometime within the last week.
      ‘Then someone has been here recently!’ concluded Fifin.
      ‘The spy from Aberlaven, perhaps,’ suggested Falco.
      ‘It is possible,’ said Raavan, ‘though there are probably other nasties about that know how to use a torch.’
      Then Alatar spoke up: ‘Though I did not mention it then, I also found fresh hoof-prints in the field when we took the horses to tether.’
      This clearly did not please Raavan, who making a wry face did not otherwise reply, and momentarily they continued northward. Soon the wall on the right opened up, becoming half-height with a large opening above and buttressed by an occasional stone column that rose from floor to ceiling. Several of these columns did they pass before the wall ceased entirely, to resume again only after the space of two more columns. This new passage opened up into a grand hall which was paved below with the same brown flagstones, and the ceiling too was of this construction, but the walls were multi-hued with round stone panels of black, grey, or silver.
      As they entered the hall and walked down its length they saw that at the far end was a broad dais manufactured out of some exotic stone which contained many bluish tones, purple and magenta swirling together in an iridescent fashion. Upon the dais sat a wide throne constructed out of the same material, itself raised up upon a smaller dais made of an inky black rock. Behind the throne opened two doorways, each with a black iron door which was left fully opened. To one side was an enormous bronze gong ornamented with intricate etchings.
      ‘The Throne Room,’ breathed Burak. ‘Here is where the crown of Nornoron rested for many years, before the coming of the Dark One. Now the crown is lost, and like as not it will never be found again.’
      ‘That is likely enough,’ said Raavan, and then, ‘Let us explore the king’s chambers. Perhaps he had his own private passage leading to the Great Stairs.’ This seemed very reasonable and so they stepped up upon the magnificent swirling dais and strode by the great throne to the doors flanking it.
      Through the doorway on the right they went with Raavan in the lead, but as soon as most of them had crowded through the doorway there was a single knock! heard coming from the far wall of the modest chamber into which they had entered. Airi took immediately to wing in the direction of the sound. Bowstrings were pulled to shoulders and blades were pointed expectantly toward the unknown threat, but presently Raavan informed them that it had been no more than a rat and that Airi was looking after that for them. Relaxing their guard once more they strode into the middle of the room and had a look around.
      The room was very ornate, being again of stone construction but graven with intricate patterns throughout. Along the walls were piled various articles of junk, what had probably been chairs or other furniture but were now too rusty or broken to use or indeed identify, and in the corners were again thick sheets of cobweb.
      Besides the doorway through which they had entered there were two other exits from the chamber: one to the north, opening into what appeared to be this chamber’s twin, and one to the east. They stepped through the latter and found themselves in a broad room which was rather less ornate than the previous. Talen noticed some wax drippings on the floor, but otherwise there was little here to hold their attention and so on they went.
      In the back of this room was an arched doorway which opened onto a long passageway heading east. Off of this several additional passages led, both to the north and to the south, but these all ended in empty chambers having no other ways in or out. Before long they had reached the eastern end of the main passage and here there was a T-junction running north to south. They stopped and looked both ways.
      At each end of this new hallway opened a single doorway on the eastern side which led to large, paired chambers, dead ends both. The northern chamber offered little of interest, but in its twin they found ashes from a very recent fire and fresh blood that had dried on the threshold. On the walls were painted ancient frescos that depicted Dwarves toiling up a mountainside pulling carts filled with treasure.
      In one corner near where the ashes lay Fifin came across a small, brass key. Who had left the key and what it would unlock they obviously did not know, but as there seemed no harm in doing so Raavan allowed the Elfling to pocket his find. Meanwhile, Airi had caught two rats in the chamber next door, one of which was now safely in his stomach while the other dangled lifeless from his beak.
      As there were no additional passages to explore in this vicinity they were ready to turn back for the Throne Room, but Burak insisted that they linger a bit, for he wished to give the premises a really thorough going-over to make sure that nothing had been missed. At once he began a painstaking inspection of all the walls for any sign of a false wall or a secret doorway. This of course took some time, but Raavan agreed that it was worthwhile, even necessary, and the Dwarf went on to examine the floor also. He did this for all of the rooms through which they had passed till at length they found themselves entering once again into the grand Throne Room of Ilimath.
      Burak had found no secret doors, not even so much as a secret compartment for the hiding of valuables and this surprised even the Dwarf, but there was nothing for it but to exit the Throne Room to the west and continue northward.
      This passage continued for some ways, there now being a full wall on either hand, and soon there were other, smaller and less ornate corridors branching off to each side. But these the companions did not follow even though the left-hand ones led west, for it was clear that they had already found the main passageway leading from the Throne Room and common sense told them that this was the more likely way for the king to have returned to his royal chambers at the citadel.
      Eventually the passageway turned left round a corner so that they were finally headed west once more, but soon a prominent hallway branched off toward the north and then they were uncertain as to which way to follow: to the north or to the west? They decided on west, but in short order the hallway gave up its stately character and degraded into another maze of criss-crossing corridors and tiny side-rooms and so they ended up returning to the northward passage.
      Now they came again to a T-junction and this new east-west hallway was not only fully as ornate as the previous, but wider, too. They headed westward only a short distance before coming to a very grand hall with many rows of delicately fashioned stone tables and benches, some of them beautifully worked, indicating that this had likely been a place for feasting on special occasions.
      A plop! on the floor near Raavan’s feet showed that Airi had dropped his rat and taken to flight, though as yet they knew not why, for he quickly disappeared into the dark upper reaches of this very high-ceilinged hall. The company once again readied their weapons and prepared themselves for the unknown. There was then a chorus of high-pitched chips and squeaks and when the owl returned he had not one but two dead bats in his possession, one dangling from his beak and the other clutched tightly in his talons. Raavan with some indignation was forced to carry the bird’s rat for him, for the owl could not manage it with the bats and refused to leave his hard-earned rodent behind.
      They crossed this ‘banquet hall’ as they called it and found that there were exits leaving in each of the four main directions. They quickly chose the western passage and were pleased to see that this continuation of their route fully maintained its stately character, stretching on now some distance toward the west with very few side corridors branching off from it. At length the tunnel began to veer toward the south, eventually giving up its westward ambitions altogether, and still it went on for quite some way.
      Eventually the passage did end, and when it did so they were very happy that it had. Opening before them was a great cavernous area unlike anything Ilimath had yet shown them. Carven into the very rock of the mountain were several grand staircases which wound up into the ageless mount, branching this way and that and even criss-crossing each other at times, till finally they disappeared into the black upper reaches of the cavern.
      ‘The Stairs of Ukurond!’ announced Burak.
      ‘Finally,’ said Dannadar.
       
       
      They did not swarm immediately up the steps, for along the smooth floor of the cavern were piled many bones, and mixed among them were rusty swords and battered shields: the remains of a battle long decided. Who the combatants had been was not immediately apparent, for though the bones appeared Dwarf-sized very few axes were found among the dead and the decaying raiment of the deceased warriors looked nothing like what Dwarves were ever known to wear. It was suggested that these had been mostly Troells, and when the skeletons of several four-legged beasts were discovered it seemed near certain that this had indeed been a skirmish between different bands of spawn, for the beasts had fangs as would a Daonrach and bestride several of them were found the lanky skeletons of Goblyns.
      ‘Even the vile creatures of the dark have their own little disputes to settle,’ remarked Raavan. He led them then up the main flight of stairs, for their goal lay at the very top of them, not there at the bottom among the bones of dead monsters.
      The climb was a very long one and at one point Burak judged that they had risen through the equivalent of three levels, or storeys, in the Kâlandelf. These levels were not the size of individual floors in a typical house, but rather at least twice as high as that, so that the companions had to take brief rests of a minute or so to rest their legs and catch their breath. Even the Elflings, who were still young and usually very energetic found these brief rests necessary, as they had added to their own weight that of the Dwarven armour which they had donned back in the Belling Hills.
      During one such break some enquiry was made as to the destinations of all the other stairways which branched off from the main one, but Burak’s knowledge of the lore of Ilimath was of no help, for nowhere was it written what lay at the ends of these ascending passageways and he would not venture a guess. The company did marvel at the odd structure, however, for the main stairway wound back and forth and occasionally round in a complete spiral, all the while sending off smaller stair-paths that merged and split and crossed each other, eventually to bore their own tunnels into the rock and so hide their further trajectories from sight.
      They had risen a goodly distance and fairly exhausted their flagging strength, but they all were anxious to continue, for their arrival at the Citadel of Tuairísi was now felt to be imminent, and within that place they could expect to find the artefact they had travelled so far to acquire. It needed only a final exerting effort and their quest would be complete. Round a final bend the stairs led them and then all their hopes were dashed, for the entrance to the cavern of the citadel was blocked by an impassible wall of fallen rock.