Chapter 3

All had escaped from the Tsaureks unharmed, yet they now had rather a different dilemma: they no longer were together in a single group, but instead were scattered variously about the grasslands surrounding the scene of their fearful encounter. Raavan and Alatar had stayed together throughout the ordeal, but the others had all become individually separate from the rest and all were reluctant to return to the site of the attack to rejoin their comrades for fear of another encounter with the grisly beasts.
      Yet, all remembered that their original course had been due south, and as it was now late afternoon the westering sun provided a ready means of reorienting themselves. South of the grassy knoll round which the second Tsaurek had appeared Raavan and Alatar met up with Dannadar, who had fled in a roundabout way to that place and had stayed put. Soon Burak joined them there too, having wound his way south about the broad hill on which the bickering Tsaureks could be seen.
      There they conferred and then waited for some moments while they each scanned to the limits of their vision for Talen and Falco, though no hint of them could they yet see. Soon they mounted up to the top of the knoll and from there searched out signs both of the missing Elflings and of the Tsaureks. Of the latter only one was seen wandering off toward the east, already little more than a speck receding into the distance. Airi had been sent some time ago to search for their comrades from the air, but as of yet not a single hoot had come from the hunting bird.
      Meanwhile Falco, who had observed with extreme distress the encounter between Talen and the two Tsaureks, followed the other Elfling from a way off till both were a safe distance from the brawling monsters, then rode to meet him as Talen’s pony slowed to a near crawl.
      ‘Are you all right?’ asked Falco upon reaching the dismounting rider.
      ‘Yes, I think so,’ was Talen’s reply, though he appeared still shaken by the close encounter. ‘Where are the others?’
      ‘I don’t know,’ replied Falco. ‘I think most of them fled toward the west. Can you ride?’
      ‘No,’ answered Talen. ‘Fenny’s completely worn out.’
      ‘Then mount up behind me,’ instructed Falco. ‘Fenny can follow behind on the tether.’
      ‘How are we going to find the others?’ asked Talen.
      ‘I don’t know,’ answered Falco, ‘Right now I’m just concerned with putting more distance between us and those terrible lizards. They’re busy combating each other just now, but as soon as they settle their differences I’m afraid they’ll come looking for us.’
      ‘Right,’ agreed Talen. With that he mounted up behind Falco, Fenfoot’s tether in his hand to be fastened to Huri’s saddle. Just then Airi approached, slowing himself by showing the broad underside of his wings, then awkwardly hovering before the attentive waifs.
      ‘Lead on, Airi,’ Falco said to the bird. ‘Lead us anywhere except toward those toothy monsters.’
       
      * * *
       
      Before long all were reunited behind the grassy knoll. Talen was mounted before Alatar on Hyarmare and the company wasted no time in getting under way. South they rode at as quick a pace as Talen’s pony could manage. Soon they had covered sufficient ground so that there no longer was any danger of an encounter with the two Tsaureks left behind. They remained highly vigilant, however, as there could be no assurance they would not meet another of the raging beasts in the lands ahead.
      In another hour they saw that sunset would soon be upon them. Yet they had not reached the edge of Telesse and this concerned some of them as they did not wish to camp within the territory of the reptilian predators. However, Raavan assured them, and Alatar concurred, that the Tsaureks were rarely active after dark and that a large campfire would fully deter the rare few that might be prowling about in the night.
      And so when dusk approached and they found themselves still within the rolling grasslands they used what little remained of the daylight to range widely over the area surrounding a little hollow to search for firewood, which, not surprisingly, turned out to be rather scarce. The hollow itself had once harboured a little stand of trees, but it was clear from the stumps there that many travellers had camped there before. With the help of Burak’s axe they uprooted several of the stumps and were thus able to procure enough firewood to keep a modest fire burning most of the night.
      They partook of the smoked antelope while Airi gorged himself on mice. The bird had eaten rather well during their stay in Telesse, owing to the large rodent population, and as he likely sensed that they soon would be leaving this land of plenty he did his best to prepare for the possibility of lean times ahead. Of course, none doubted that it pained him to have to indulge so.
      In the very early hours of morning they swallowed a cold breakfast and once more took up their trek south. All of the steeds seemed now to be more or less completely recovered from the previous day’s exertions, and so they kept up the pace and made fairly good time. Though they all dreaded another encounter with the Tsaureks, none appeared, neither near nor far, though they all kept a vigilant watch over the wide landscape as they travelled.
      The only sizeable creature they did encounter was a predator of quite a different sort—this one covered with fur and feathers rather than scales, and not nearly as large as a Tsaurek, though they were reputed to occasionally tackle small antelopes when the opportunity presented itself. The creature had four muscular legs with sharply clawed feet, a flowing mane down the centre of its back, a pair of large feathered wings, and a large feathered head with a decurved beak like that of an eagle.
      ‘Gryphon,’ Raavan called the creature when it was sighted some distance off. ‘A much less formidable predator than the Tsaurek—and rather wary of people, too. It will keep a safe distance from us.’
      ‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Dannadar.
      Soon the character of the land began to change as the sun-burned grass gradually turned green again and trees sprouted sparsely about them. Finally they sighted the line of the river ahead which delineated the boundary of Arnedia.
      ‘That is the River Aglathrin,’ said Raavan, ‘the main river that runs through Arnedia. It passes through several key cities before emptying into the ocean at Aglathrad, the capital city of Arnedia and the residence of Arnedia’s high king. We will be seeing much of this river over the next week.’
      Now as they descended into the river valley the terrain lost its smooth, gentle character. Gone were the rolling hills of Telesse and in their place were bogs and bluffs, groves and gullies. Tiny streams rushed down through stands of sycamore to become tributaries to the great river below.
      Finally the company came down almost to the river’s edge and there they saw just downstream the ruins of an ancient city that once had occupied the floodplain stretching out from the north bank. Tumbled walls and broken buildings gave testament to the long years that stood between the city’s final days and the present. Now only birds and other wildlife called this once thriving city their home.
      ‘Gôl Certhad,’ Raavan called the place. ‘Destroyed at the end of the Fifth Age and never subsequently rebuilt by the Arnedians. We will recruit no armies here.’
      ‘O?’ replied Dannadar. ‘I don’t know about that: I’m sure if Talen got out his fife he could pipe up a mighty host of rats for us, just as Willem the Piper did for King Dunsternockle.’
      ‘No thanks,’ said Raavan.
      ‘Ai!’ cried Burak. ‘But there is at least one person still living in this place, for look there!’ The Dwarf pointed away toward the northern edge of the ruins where a tall, stone tower stood unbroken above the crumbling city. As the company looked thither they saw that a red glow emanated from the topmost window of the high citadel: a fiery glow as of an evil flame burning within.
      ‘Yes, I have seen a light in that window before,’ said Alatar with growing interest as something stirred in his memory. ‘And I have heard that such a light glows all day and all night up there without respite. Yet, none dare approach it, for it is said that the tower is guarded by the most wicked beast, though of what sort I cannot say.’
      ‘Interesting,’ said Raavan. ‘I had not heard of this. I suspect there is a mundane explanation for the light, but as our business lies downriver and not at the top of that tower I am afraid we will have to leave the matter unsettled for the time being.’ This was just as well, for none among the party had a burning desire to face any wicked beasts that day, having already had their share of such encounters for the week.
      They found however that at the east end of the ruins was a lake and round the lake were bogs, so that the most sensible path would in fact take them along the northern edge of the crumbling city. This then was the path they took and at length they found themselves approaching the quarter wherein stood the mysterious circular building.
      The tower stood just inside the outer wall that once surrounded the city. Though the wall and all of the structures attached to it had long been toppled in most places, the tower itself stood tall and even showed signs of recent repair, particularly the spired roof, which was freshly thatched. When the tower stood just beyond the wall the company halted as they indulged their curiosity by gazing at the uppermost windows, which still were aglow with the strange red light.
      Dannadar broke the silence: ‘How odd, that someone would go to such trouble to maintain a dwelling in this deserted place. And in a tower, at that.’
      ‘Yes, how odd,’ replied Raavan, ‘—almost reminds me of me.’ The wizard then dismounted and tethered Windaris to a tree. The others began to follow suit.
      ‘Only Alatar and myself need investigate this,’ said the old man. ‘The rest of you wait here. We will be only a minute.’
      With that the two men found a low part of the crumbling wall and clambered over, Raavan with staff in hand, and with sheathed swords at both their sides. Once they were over they slowly approached the tower and then walked round to the far side of it, now no longer visible to the others. What their waiting comrades heard then brought them the most terrible shock, for it was the roar of an immense creature, a roar both thunderous and familiar.
      The figures of Alatar and Raavan were then seen rushing with all speed toward the low part of the wall while across a courtyard from the tower the head of a toothy monster appeared and began to draw ever closer: it was a Tsaurek. Again the beast roared as it ran with great strides toward the fleeing men who now were almost to the wall. The other companions freed their tethers and mounted their steeds as fast as ever they could. The terrible lizard sped across the courtyard and had now nearly reached the wall where the two men had at last clambered over, but now the beast stopped to roar at them from beyond the crumbling barrier.
      ‘Well, you were right about one thing, Raavan,’ cried Dannadar as the wizard reached his horse and fumbled with the tether: ‘You were gone only a minute!’
      ‘Ride, fool!’ was the wizard’s reply. But then he thought better of it and instead called out, ‘No, wait! This is not right.’ Taking his staff he then strode confidently over to the wall where the beast now roared incessantly at him and the others. ‘O, shut up!’ said the wizard, and then with a swing of his staff he struck out at the beast only to pass through thin air, for the monster had suddenly disappeared!
      Those who had started to flee now turned back at hearing the wizard’s call, some more reluctantly than others to be sure, but soon all had returned cautiously to where Alatar sat mounted upon Hyarmare.
      ‘That was amazing,’ said Alatar as he gazed toward the spot where the beast was no more.
      ‘Have no fear,’ the wizard reassured them. ‘There is no danger here.’
      ‘That was indeed a neat trick,’ said Burak, who had observed the entire scene from but a short distance away. ‘Why did you not use such a spell back in Telesse when we were very nearly eaten by one of those beasts?’
      Raavan answered, ‘Because the creature in Telesse was of flesh and blood. This, on the other hand, was merely an illusion.’
      ‘A rather convincing illusion, I must say,’ insisted Falco.
      ‘Yes, it was quite good,’ mused Raavan, who now gazed up at the still glowing window atop the nearby tower.
      Burak followed Raavan’s gaze, then asked: ‘But if the beast was only illusory, then who was the caster of this illusion?’
      ‘Who, indeed,’ agreed Raavan.
       
      * * *
       
      It was unanimously decided that the occupant of the tower was unlikely to be of a benign disposition and therefore almost certainly would be a rather ungracious host for six uninvited guests. But as Raavan’s curiosity and (more importantly) his indignation had been fired up by the encounter with the insubstantial warder he insisted that they impose themselves briefly on the hospitality of the cloistered resident.
      Up to the tower he and Alatar again strode, with the others holding back somewhat just in case any guardians of a more substantive nature should intrude upon the scene. As soon as they neared the tower itself, however, the twain realised that they now had rather a different dilemma, for there did not appear to be any way into or out of the structure except through the windows high above, just below the spire. The wizard and the warrior walked completely round the circular building as the others finally ventured to approach, yet no door could they find upon which to knock.
      This of course had them all quite baffled—all except for Raavan, who knew quite a lot about towers and even more about magic spells. ‘This chap has quite a penchant for deceit, hasn’t he?’ asked the wizard of no one in particular as he closed his eyes and began to feel along the curvature of the stone wall with palms stretched wide. Soon his hands could be seen to sink into the solid stone as if it were no more than water. ‘Aha!’ he exclaimed as he withdrew his hands from the ethereal rock. With a snap of his fingers the stonework was transformed into an oaken door with hefty iron hinges and a rather imposing iron lock.
      They knocked and they waited, but no one came to greet them at the door. Raavan tried the handle but found it to be locked.
      ‘Allow me,’ insisted Burak as he sidled up to the door. Setting aside his axe he pulled a small pouch from an inner pocket of his cloak, and from the pouch he then produced several long, slender tools. These he expertly inserted into the keyhole and then proceeded to apply to the innards of the lock in the most methodical fashion. It was only a brief moment before a sharp click! was heard and the door yielded easily at the turn of its handle.
      Raavan entered first, followed by Alatar and then Burak, with the Elflings at the rear. Under a heavy black curtain they passed to find themselves in utter darkness. Once again Talen’s glowing sphere was produced and passed to the front of the procession to light their way. With weapons drawn they walked in silence, and with the greatest caution, for they knew not what dangers real or even half real may await them within.
      A large, round chamber now opened before them, with an aisle down the centre lined on both hands by a wall of strong, iron bars: a prison this was, though no prisoners were to be seen. Yet, the signs of past residents were everywhere in evidence, from the man-sized bones and blood-stained walls to the tattered clothing and even articles of rusted armour. Clearly these cells had been occupied in the recent past, and not by the gladdest of tenants.
      On they went past a corridor crossing the main aisle in the exact centre of the room, till at the far side they came to a spiral staircase ascending to the higher levels of the tower. Up they went as cautiously as ever, weapons gripped tightly in hand. When they reached the second level they saw that the terror evidenced here was even greater than that below, for before them were the devices of torture: whips and chains, pokers and irons, racks and wheels. Several long tables there were with shackles and fetters affixed, and small rolling carts burdened with all manner of strange tools and surgical instruments.
      Yet no living inhabitants did they encounter, and judging by the high ceilings they had only another two storeys to investigate. They soon would either encounter the proprietor of this abominable abode or discover that he was not currently at home, and though they all would like to have seen this terrible person properly dealt with by the now nearly furious Raavan, not all were eager to brave the dangers of the malefactor’s sorcery, and so they were not unanimously hopeful that the villain would be found.
      Up another flight of spiraling stairs they climbed till they came to yet another prison, for nearly the entire third story was occupied by an enormous iron cage. Yet, within this cage were not merely bones and other mortal remains, but also the beast which fed upon them, for confined within the hold was a young Tsaurek. Much smaller than an adult it was, though still possessed of a foul disposition, for as the company filed into the crowded room the adolescent predator snarled viciously at them from behind the bars.
      ‘He keeps a Tsaurek as a pet,’ observed Falco. ‘How appropriate.’
      ‘No, not merely as a pet!’ replied Alatar, ‘for look at the contents of the cage: this young animal is his warder and obviously is the beast we encountered outside.’ Now they saw that within the cage was constructed a crude model of the tower and its immediate environs.
      ‘Yes,’ agreed Raavan, ‘our friend seems to have used a clever form of projection to send a much enlarged apparition of this very beast down into the courtyard below.’
      ‘Interesting,’ mused Burak.
      ‘Yes,’ continued Raavan. ‘I would guess that he was unable to master a dangerous and unwieldy adult Tsaurek for that task, and so he instead abducted an infant for that eventual purpose. In the meantime he can maintain a virtual warder till this little fellow grows up. Very clever.’
      It now became increasingly clear that the occupier of this tower was not only maleficent, but also quite capable in the black arts, even if he still was no match for Raavan. On the side of the cage the wizard now found a placard with an inscription written in a foul language. ‘His name appears to be Über,’ said the wizard after reading the single word inscription. ‘How cute,’ he added dryly. The small beast now snarled at him all the more threateningly till Raavan rebuked him: ‘Über—bad boy! You behave!’ At this the bipedal lizard retreated with head hung low to the other side of the cage and sat quietly with his tail curled about his legs.
      It now was time for the hardy companions to ascend to the top floor of the tower, though it was not with the greatest eagerness that they did so. Up the spiral staircase they once again ventured and when they emerged into the large room above they found themselves bathed in a reddish light that shone flickeringly from a circular fireplace in the centre of the room. There they saw a black box that burned with a scarlet flame, yet the strange, glowing cube did not appear to be at all reduced or consumed by its burning. Here was the source of the incessant light seen from afar through the high windows.
      Now they looked round at the rest of this sizeable chamber, and much there was to see, for it appeared in every respect to be the workshop of a very busy sorcerer. The outer wall was lined with tables, workbenches, cabinets, and shelves, and all were littered with the many trappings of sorcery. There were lenses and prisms, books and scrolls. There were weights and balances, hourglasses and pendulums, urns and phials and flasks. They found neat piles of a jet black powder beside scraps of paper bearing various calculations. There were piles of bats’ wings and jars of worms. There were live mice in small cages, and rats in larger ones.
      But there was no sorcerer.
      ‘I guess he’s out spreading the evil eye,’ surmised Dannadar when it was voiced that the tenant was quite obviously not at home.
      ‘Lucky for him,’ said Raavan under his breath, though in the silence his words were easily heard.
      ‘What would you have done to him had he been here?’ asked Falco.
      ‘I would have spoken very firmly to him,’ replied the wizard.
      ‘Aye, and I would have lightened the load on his shoulders,’ said Burak, hefting his weighty axe.
      In the centre of the room were several desks piled high with yet more scrolls and books and also a fair number of scribblings on loose paper. Now Raavan began to inspect these, leafing through one particular stack with more than passing interest. The others milled about, giving their attention over to the many other curiosities that lay scattered about the place.
      Among the most captivating of these were a collection of small prisms which they found that when held at the proper angle toward a light source would project a mirage of different sorts at a fixed distance. One was a dragonfly, another a hairy spider, but all were still and lifeless. Yet, these projected images were so lifelike in every detail that the observers found themselves irresistibly passing their fingers through the apparitions in disbelief.
      Dannadar discovered several tiny black boxes each with a tiny peep-hole on one side. Peering into these he was again treated to various sorts of images, mostly fixed views of beetles or dead fish or the like. However, one of these looking boxes took the form of a smooth black ball and when he peered into the lens he saw a grassy landscape with trees in the distance and mountains looming faintly behind. What was so remarkable about this device was that as he held the thing at different angles he saw the landscape from correspondingly different views, so that now as he turned round and round he was able to take in the whole of the surrounding scenery as if he were standing in that very place with one eye open.
      ‘Truly marvellous!’ declared the Elfling, and Talen and Falco now eagerly took their turns as Dannadar moved on to better things.
      ‘What gibberish,’ remarked Raavan from his seat at the sorcerer’s desk. ‘I’m inclined to think that our conjurer friend is simply insane.’
      ‘Aren’t they all?’ asked Dannadar as he reached for a hand mirror sitting face down on a table. When he turned it over and looked into it he got quite a fright, however, for the image of himself that he saw there was so monstrous and distorted that he appeared to have been transformed into some horrible freak. ‘Eeeeeek!’ he cried as he dropped the mirror, running his hands over his face to be sure it was unchanged.
      Dropping the parchment he was reading Raavan came quickly over to see that the Elfling was unharmed. Picking up the mirror and having a look himself he raised his bushy eyebrows and then reflected to himself, ‘Ah, yes—anamorphosis .’ And then to Dannadar: ‘Serves you right.’
      Still shaken, the Elfling asked, ‘I don’t really look like that, do I?’
      ‘No,’ replied the wizard, ‘but if you’d like to I could certainly arrange it.’
      Alatar then addressed the wizard, ‘Raavan, perhaps we should—’
      ‘Yes,’ agreed the wizard to the unspoken suggestion. ‘We waste our time here. Let us be gone from this place, for we’ve more important matters elsewhere to—’
      Something then caught his eye.
      ‘Well, I’ll be—’ he stuttered.
      Now he strode over to the outer wall where upon the table lay a most impressive amulet. The piece consisted of an exceptionally large ruby worked into the shape of a many-pointed star and fitted with a finely wrought chain. The gem was mounted on a hefty iron backing, though the chain was slight and appeared to be of silver. Precious nearly beyond comparison it was.
      As Raavan held the remarkable amulet aloft in his gloved hand Alatar asked, ‘Isn’t that the—’
      ‘Yes,’ interrupted Raavan. ‘It is the Earlstone.’
      ‘But what is it doing here?’ asked Alatar.
      ‘That is a very good question,’ answered Raavan.
      ‘What is an earlstone?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Not an earlstone,’ replied Raavan, ‘—the Earlstone. It is an ancient talisman said to have been first worn by the Earl of Anderslie during his highly successful conquest of Arnedia during the Second Age. It is now afforded the status of a religious artefact, for it is believed that he who carries the stone will be undefeatable in battle, as he has the spirit of Anderslie with him and thus the element of righteousness.’
      ‘Fascinating,’ said the others as they crowded around to see the venerable relic.
        ‘Yes, well, the fact that it has changed hands dozens of times through its wearer’s defeat in battle doesn’t seem to have entered into the minds of most Arnedians,’ added the wizard, ‘for I’ve not yet met a single one who wouldn’t give his life for its procurement. Indeed, if the thing has any power at all, it is in its ability to promote needless bloodshed on its behalf. Many wars have been fought over this earthly piece of rock, and many lives lost. But there is a certain sway that folklore holds over the mind of the common man that facts never seem able to dispel.’
      ‘So, what are you going to do with it?’ asked Talen.
      ‘I’m going to keep it,’ answered the wizard, ‘at least for now, till I can decide what to do with it. I may pass it on to King Eboenninar when we get to Aglathrad, but I need to think about it. In the meantime, let us not speak further of it.’